L?#F£J

POP-GUNS.

ONE SERIOUS AND ONE FUNNY.

List of Pop -Gun Series.

I.-— Pop-Guns.
II. — One Big Pop-Gun.
III. — All Sorts of Pop- Guns.
IV. — Funny Pop- Guns.

V. — Grasshopper Pop- Gun.
VI— Post- Office Pop-Guns.

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2011 with funding from

The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

http://www.archive.org/details/popgunsoneseriouOOfann

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The Dogs' Dinner Party.

POP-GUNS

ONE SERIOUS AND ONE FUNNY.

BEDfG

THE FIEST BOOK OF THE SERIES.

AUNT fanny,

AUTHOB OF "NIGHTCAPS," " MITTENS," " PET BOOKS,"
"wife's STRATAGEM," ETC.

■ Shoot folly as it flies.'"
"I love God and little children." — Eichteb.

NEW YORK:

SHELDON & COMPANY, PUBLISHEES,

498 & 500 BROADWAY.

186 5.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864,
By FANNY BAEEOW,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.

C. A. ALVOED, STEREOTYPES.

This, and all the books of the series,
i dedicate

TO

THOMAS LINCOLN,

THE SON OP

THAT LOYAL, FEARLESS, HONEST MAN,
THE

PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

CONTENTS

PAGB

1. A Pop-Gun Letter from Aunt Fanny 11

2. About the Children 24

3. How Philip Badboy became Philip "Wiseman 30

4. The Doq's Dinner Party 115

5. Conclusion 14*7

ILLUSTRATIONS,

PAGE

1. The Dog's Dinner Party— Frontispiece.

2. " We ail got in the Boat" 19

3. Pop-Gun, " Be Good, if you wish to be Happy." 30

4. Little Essie going to meet her Father 65

5. The Honorable Mr. Kite 73

6. Pop-Gun, " Practise True Politeness." 114

PREFACE.

TO PARENTS AND GUARDIANS.

In these little books, I have complied
with a request repeatedly expressed to me,
to write stories avowedly for the purpose
of ' ' pointing a moral. ' '

Any one who will take the trouble to
look over the "Nightcap," "Mitten," or
"Sock" books, will see that I have tried
to remember this duty ; although I own to
loving children so tenderly, as to adminis-
ter my pills, sugar-coated.

Even now, I cannot resist employing the
whimsical mask of an odd title ; but my

10 PREFACE.

dear friends, try my pop-guns, and if then
you are convinced that I have sincerely
endeavored to " shoot folly as it flies,"
pray believe also, that Aunt Fanny well
knows that stories called " Pop-Guns,"
will make quicker and more enduring
marks in the loving hearts of her darlings,
the children, than twenty folios, written Tby
a thousand times greater authors, with the
dry title of " Moral Lessons for the
Young."

New York, May, 1864.

POP-GUNS.

A POP-GUN LETTER FROM AUNT FAMY.

Daeliistg Childbed, —

Last summer, when I was in the country,
I met a family of six charming children.
As soon as they heard who I was, they
did not stop one minute to think about it,
but just ran up and kissed and hugged
me, and told me they loved me dearly.

Oh ! how sweet that was to know : but
I put on a funny grave face, and said —
, " I cannot imagine why you should love
such a little brown woman ; don't you
think you have made some mistake ?"

"JSTo indeed, Aunt Fanny,", they all
cried together, "and we are so glad we
have found you at last. We are glad you

12 POP-GUNS.

are little, that's the Ibest of it! and yon
don't look so very hrown. Come, please
sit down, and tell us what has hecome of
the Mght-cap children, won't yon? Oh,
do!"

There was no resisting that "Oh, do!"
with six pair of loving hright eyes looking
into mine ; so I answered —

"Well, let us all get in a corner to-
gether, and have a nice long talk."

At this one of the hoys threw up his
hands, made a dry dive down on the car-
pet, and humped the top of his head, in
his joy ; another, hopped on one foot till
he lost his "balance, and had to make a one-
sided somerset, to hring himself up on his
feet again ; the third and smallest laid his
curly head lovingly against my dress ;
while the little girls danced and skipped
so lightly around me, that I caught myself
wishing for the hundred and fiftieth time
that I were a child too.

But never mind. I love children with

LETTEE FE0M AUNT FANNY. 13

niy whole heart, and that helps to comfort
me, when I think what an old "Annt
Fanny" I am getting to be.

So we all sat down in the corner, jnst
as close together as we conld get, and 1
told them how, as they knew already from
the " Mitten" books, that George was a
captain in the army, and as he had always
been a good boy, he was now a noble and
good yonng man ; and how Harry had
gone to the nayal school at Newport, and
conld ran abont the rigging of a ship, like
any monkey ; and Anna was engaged to
be married ; at which they were greatly
snrprised.

"Why, Annt Fanny!" they exclaimed,
"is she as old as that?"

"Yes," I answered, "she would grow
np into a lovely yonng lady, all I conld
do — and the rest are growing older too, for
Clara has left school ; little Minnie knows
how to make cake; the ' Teemendous
Dog' has died of old age ; and even little

14 POP-GTJNS.

Johnny, who packed up his mother' s false
hair in an old tin tomato-can, and gave it
to the express-man to carry off, is taller
than I am."

"Oh, Aunt Fanny! how old they all
are!" cried Sophie, the eldest girl, "they
are too old to have any more stories told
to them. Oh! oh!" she exclaimed, clap-
ping her* hands, "please tell the next
stories to us. Won't you % will you V

Such a shout as the rest of the children
gave at this! "Yes! yes! yes!" they'
all cried. "We'll be the Mght-cap chil-
dren ! we want the next stories ! Oh my !
how delightful it would he !"

"But let me tell you," I said, with a
serious air, "you would not he the NigM-
cap children. I have a new idea in my
head. I am going to write stories this
time, in which I intend to show the evil
effects of special faults and bad habits, and
the unfailing happiness children will find
in being good, and doing good. Yes, I am

LETTER PROM AUNT FANNY. 15

going to fire guns this time ; and then, if
the stories are first told to yon, what do
yon think yon will be called V

"W-h-a-t?" cried all the children, with
breathless interest.

I pnt on a monstrons solemn face, and
raising my arms as if I was going to shoot,
uttered the first fonr words very slowly,
and the last fonr, very quickly —

' i Yon — will — be — called — The Pop-
gun Children — Bang!"

Bnt I eonld not help a merry twinkle in
my eyes, and the children saw it ; so after
the first instant of surprise at their new
and queer title, they bnrst ont into hearty
chnckling laughter, exclaiming, " Oh, what
fun! We are to be the ' Pop-gun Chil-
dren !' Shoot away, Aunt Fanny. Make
ready ! Take aim ! Fire ! Bang ! bang !
bang !" and they commenced to shoot each
other with their fore-fingers, and made
such a terrible racket, that two very grave
and very prim old ladies, who were knit-

16 POP-GUNS.

ting stockings on the other side of the
room, looked at us so severely through
their "big round spectacles, that I had a
great mind to tell the children to take hold
of hands, and we would all march up in
one long row, and with a One, two, three !
fall down plump on our fourteen knees,
and say we were sorry for being happy so
loud.

But the next moment, I thought, that
perhaps these poor old souls had no chil-
dren in their own homes, and were not
used to so much noise — perhaps they had
only cats and parrots to love them — and
then I felt sorry for them in earnest, and
whispered to the children, "Come, let us
go out under the trees, and finish our
talk."

It would have made you smile, if you
could have seen how they tried to get the
dimples out of their faces, as they walked
past the two old ladies. They puckered
their mouths into button-holes, and seemed

LETTER FROM AUNT FANNY. 17

to be stepping on eggs, but the very in-
stant they got outside the front door I
really thought they had wings all at once,
for they seemed to fly under a great oak-
tree, where there was a large rustic seat,
and tumbling down pell-mell upon it, Fred,
the eldest boy, cried out, "Walk up,
ladies and gentlemen!- here you will see
the celebrated Pop-Gun Children, each a
head and five pair of shoulders taller than
anybody else, because they have got Aunt
Fanny all to themselves : ten cents each,
and children half-price, and we intend to
give the money to the msanitary conunis- .
sion."

This made me laugh so, that I did not
perceive that a lady and gentleman who
had been sitting reading under another
tree a little way off, had left their seats,
and were standing close to us smiling, until
Sophie said, "Dear mamma and papa, this
is 'Aunt Fanny.' "

I tried to look grave, as I shook hands
2

18 POP-GUNS.

with "mamma and papa," and heard their
kind words of welcome : words so kind,
that I do not like to tell them — and then
all the children speaking at once, told
about their new funny name, and my new
stories, at which mamma and papa seemed
very much delighted.

" But when will they "begin ?" asked the
children ; ■ ' to-morrow V '

" Not till next October."

"O h !" now came, in one long

wail of disappointment.

"Why, my darlings," I said, "I want
to rest here in this lovely country place,
and laugh and frolic with you, and climb
over ninety-nine fences, and eat apples,
and drink* milk, and hear the birds sing,
and watch the dimples of sunlight peeping
through the leaves of the trees, and feed
the chickens, and ride on the top of a load
of hay, with forty thousand grasshoppers
in it, and sail or row on that beautiful
little lake in front of us, and forget all

"We all crot into the boat.

LETTER FROM AUNT FANNY. 19

albout the hard brick and stone city, until
the sweet summer is over."

;" Oh ! will yon do all that with us, dear
Aunt Fanny ? then we will wait as long as
you like. When will you begin to climb
the fences and row on the pond? Let's
have a row now."

"With, all my heart," I said, and we
jumped up and ran down to the water's
edge ; at least the children ran, and I tried
to, and we got into a beautiful little boat,
and had such a nice row, with the cool
soft wind blowing in our faces, and the
air full of golden light. Oh! it did me
more good than a thousand doses of Ep-
som salts.

The very minute we were on dry land
again, Peter said, with a hop, skip, and
jump, "Now, Aunt Fanny, when shall
we begin to climb the fences ?"

u At five o'clock this afternoon," I an-
swered, laughing, "we will all go out, for
a nice long walk, and you shall hunt up

20 POP-GUNS.

the fences, and that little pug-nosed dog,
with no tail to speak of, shall go with us.'5

"Why, that's our dog!" cried the chil-
dren.

" Is it ? what is his name ?' '

"Something short."

"Short? Is it Tip?"

"No, Aunt Fanny ; something short."

"■Hip? Bip? Rip? Sap? Top?"

How they laughed as they said again,
' ' Something short. ' '

Then I began to suspect the joke, and
said, "Very well. I'll fire one of my pop-
guns at Mr. Something Short, the yery
first time I catch him chasing a cat, or
rushing at cows' noses to bite them."

"Yes do, Aunt Fanny !" they answered.
Then I got a good kiss and hug from each,
and went back into the house.

# •& % # * *

And here, my darling children who are
out in the world, are the stories I gave,
one by one, to Sophie, Kitty, and Lou;

LETTEK FEOM AUNT FANNY. 21

Fred, the diver ; Peter, the hopper ; and
Bob. You have them printed in books;
but, oh dear! I cannot see 7011 as I did
the others, and watch your sweet faces,
to know if you like them. I only wish I
could get hold of yon all, and give you one
good kiss apiece. I often have my parlors
filled with lovely children, who wish to see
"Aunt Fanny." It makes me feel very,
very happy ; but I keep wanting more to
come all the time.

My Pop-gun children seemed really to
know "Mght-caps," "Mittens," "Socks,"
and the "Pet-Books" by heart ; and I do
hope that both they and you who will
read these new stories, will make an ear-
nest resolution to profit by the good ex-
amples I shall give, and avoid all that you
will find to be evil. I don't mean it all for
fun. ~No indeed ! To be sure I have given
a funny title to the books, and shall try to
tell some funny stories ; but beneath this
fun I want you to feel that I am also try-

22 pop-guns.

ing to show you how the cultivation of
high and generous qualities, and nolble
and right principles, is the only way Iby
which you may reap real and steadfast
happiness — the only way to win the love
and respect of all around you.

You know Solomon says, "Even a
child is known by his doings — whether
his work be pure, and whether it Ibe
right;" and you will "be more laughing
and merry — more full of fun and frolic at
the right times — more the pictures of al-
most perfect happiness — the more earnest-
ly you endeavor to obey your parents,
study your Bible, learn your lessons, and,
above all, the more faithfully you say
your prayers. Never, " never forget your
prayers, my own darlings ; then you will
be certain, if the good God spares your
lives, to grow up good and useful men and
women.

Forgive me for this grave little lecture.
It all came out of love — that best love

LETTER FROM A TINT FANNY. 23

which seeks your good. If you love me,
I know you will understand this.

And now here are the Pop-gun Stories,
which I send with a — Take aim ! fire !
"bang ! ! and on top of all a kiss and a bles-
sing, from your loving

Aunt Fanny.

24 pop-guns.

ABOUT THE CHILDREN.

One clear soft autumn evening, in the
beginning of October, just after dinner,
Aunt Fanny went up into her bedroom,
and put on her bonnet and sack. They
were both black, and trimmed with crape,
for she had lately lost a relative she dear-
ly loved. Then opening a drawer in her
precious little Hbrary-table, upon which
she wrote aU her stories, she took out a
manuscript, and tried to get it into her
pocket.

But it was written on such wide paper
that the end would stick out, so she had
to return to the dining-room with a quarter
of the roU in fuH view.

"Why, mamma!" exclaimed Alice,
"where are you going? and what is that
sticking out of your pocket ?"

ABOUT THE CHILDREN. 25

"I am going to see my new children,
and this is the but-end of a pop-gun."

" Oh, mamma, take me ! I want to go."

"But, darling, I thought Lizzie Lyman
was coming to help you make a new Span-
ish waist for Ginevra."

" So she is ; I forgot ;" and Alice pulled
out Miss Ginevra, who was a lovely little
porcelain doll, and who lived in the top
of her own trunk, and kissed her fondly.

So Aunt Fanny and her tall husband,
after a dozen kisses or so from Sarah and
Alice, trotted off.

If you will promise never to tell, I will
mention that the new children lived in
Twenty-third street, in the very middle of
a long row of brown-stone houses. It was
not a very long walk, and soon Aunt
Fanny had pulled the bell, which was one
of those funny spring bells which give one
loud utching," as if they had jumped out
of their skins with a jerk and a scream ;
and jumped in again with another, the

26 pop-guns.

next time anybody pulled them. As the
door was opened, she saw a bright little
face peeping from the dining-room, and
the very next instant she heard the joyous
exclamation, "If it isn't Aunt Fanny !" —
and then came a rushing, and a tumbling,
and a racing, and a laughing ! and all the
six children fell lovingly upon her, and
knocked down — not Aunt Fanny, not a bit
of it, or of her, but two hats, three um-
brellas, a great-coat, a whisk-broom, and
a paper parcel marked " From A. T. Stew-
art,"— all of which had been peacefully
hanging or resting upon the hat-stand;
and when papa and mamma came out to
see who was creating such a riot, there
was Aunt Fanny with the whisk-broom
perched like a flower on top of her bon-
net, Peter and Fred rushing after the hats
which had rolled off in different corners ;
all the rest of the articles scattered on the
floor ; Bob and the three little girls jump-
ing straight up and down, kissing Aunt

ABOU'T THE CIIILDEEN. 27

Fanny, and begging pardon for upsetting
so many things oyer her ; while the waiter
and Annt Fanny' s husband were standing
near, laughing as hard as ever they could
at the fun.

They got into the parlor at last, and sat
down — the children with their bright eyes
fastened upon their welcome guest, who,
trying to look grave, asked, the very first
thing, if the children had had any dinner
that day.

"Why yes, plenty, Aunt Fanny; des-
sert too — flower-pot pudding."

u Flower -pot pudding! who ever heard
of such a pudding! Is it any thing like
dirt-pies?"

"Why no, Aunt Fanny!" cried all the
children; "it is cooked in flower-pots; at
any rate, we call them so ; but there are
no holes in the bottoms of them. Mamma
brought ever so many of these funny little
brown earthen pots from Boston. The
cook puts them in the oven only half full

28 pop-gv^s.

of the pudding, Ibut when they come out,
oh my! how funny they look! for each
one has swelled up twice as high as the
pot, and some of them hang over on one
side, as if they were perfectly tipsy ; and
when you come to cut them, pop ! goes the
"knife into a great hole inside, and there's
where you must put the sauce, and that
makes them taste so nice ! but — why do
you ask?"

Aunt Fanny laughed, and said —

"When you came at me so furiously, I
thought you might have "been living on a
slice or two of buttered paper and a teacup
or so of sunbeams to-day, and meant to eat
me up for supper."

" Oh, Aunt Fanny ! we love you dearly,
but we wouldn't eat you up for all the
world."

"But what's that sticking out of your
pocket?" asked Sophie, spying the end of
the roll of manuscript, for the first time.

"A Pop-gun. Bang!" she answered,

ABOUT THE CHILDREN. 29

pulling it out and pointing it at them.
" Come, sit down, for I have brought it on
purpose to read to yon."

With a great many "hushes," and flour-
ishes, and skirmishes, to get the seats on
either side of her, Aunt Fanny unrolled
her story, and began as follows :

HOW PHILIP BADBOY BECAME PHILIP
WISEMAN.

Once up-
on a time not
so very long
ago, there
Hved a stu-
pid, heavy
looking boy, na
med Philip, who
bore any thing but
an agreeable char-
acter; for he was
naughty, lazy,
greedy, and impudent.

IwV

His companions

PHILIP BADBOY. 31

all hated Mm, for when he appeared
among them after school hours, he was
sure to kick their marbles into the middle
of the street, knock the little hoys' caps
over their eyes, twitch halls and kites ont
of their hands, and set them all fighting
and quarrelling.

One amusement in particular gave him
great delight. This was to tie a knot in
the end of his handkerchief and snap with
it at the little boys' legs. I really hope
no one reading this has ever made a
" snapper." If he has, and if he has gone
round snapping other boys' legs, I am
sure his face has turned as red as a stick
of sealing-wax when he reads these lines,
and knows that I call him a cowardly tor-
mentor^ and no better than Philip.

His whole name was Philip Wiseman,
but his companions changed it to Philip
Badboy.

His parents tried long and faithfully to
improve their wayward child; but no-

32 pop-guns.

thing altered him for the "better — indeed,
whippings, and locking him up, only
seemed to make him worse.

Do not imagine for a moment that he
was happy. ~No indeed ! He was discon-
tented, fretful, forever wishing that dinner
was ready, and oftentimes hating the sight
of every ihing and everybody.

At last, quite wearied out, his father put
him at a celebrated "boarding-school in
Sing Sing ; but they might better perhaps
have pnt him in the famous prison at the
same place, for not a single button did
Philip care for lessons or pnnishment.

At this same school was a bright little
fellow, as full of good-nature, fun, and
mischief as he could hold. He did not al-
ways know his lessons, and there really
seemed no end to the monkey tricks he
was constantly playing npon his school-
fellows ; but somehow, when he said he
was sorry for his idleness, and his capers,
in his coaxing voice, and trying to keep

PHILIP BADB0Y. 33

"back two dimples that would come in his
cheeks, neither teachers nor comrades
conld help forgiving him immediately.
Everybody loved little Kriss Luff.

He even tried to make friends with
Philip ; and one bright summer morning
resolved to get him up in time for prayers.
When the first "bell rang, Kriss went to
the sleeping Iboy's bed, and shaking him
well, shouted out : ' ' Come, Lazylbones, it' s
time for you to Ibe learning your A, B, C;
Gret up ! get up !"

Philip only snored louder, and gave a
kick with one of his legs, whereupon the
little fellow, with a tremendous push,
tilted him suddenly out on the floor, and
then had to run for his life, or he would
have got a good thrashing from the angry
boy.

Thanks to the upset, Philip was down

this morning in time for prayers ; Ibut went

sound asleep again while on his knees,

and his neighbors had to poke and pinch

3

34 pop-guns.

Mm well, to get him upon his feet, when
the morning service was ended.

But you may be certain he managed to
keep awake at the breakfast table, where
he made up for haying a head as empty
as a drum, by filling his stomach till he
could scarcely breathe. He never stopped
for salt or pepper ; he did not waste his
time talking ; and was always the very
last one at the table, getting up with his
cheeks sticking out like a balloon, from
thrusting into his mouth every thing he
could catch in a hurry.

During school hours, Master Philip went
to sleep again — and the master coming up
rapped so loudly and suddenly on the
desk, that he jumped half a yard high,
exclaiming: "Dear me, how could you
frighten me so !" while all the boys shout-
ed with laughter.

You may imagine that our friend Philip
did not injure himself in the least with
studying. He was always wishing that

PHILIP BADB0Y. 35

Ms slate was a hot buttered pancake, so
he could eat it up, and never see it again ;
he would stare at his hooks as if they
were scarecrows, and the idea of writing
a composition "brought the tears in his eyes
quicker than red pepper. The whole of
his pocket-money was spent in buying
tough pastry ; little round stale pound-
cakes, with three dead flies and two cur-
rants stuck over the top ; some oranges,
green apples, and molasses candy. Not a
suck or a bite did one of his school-fel-
lows ever get, for a greedy boy is always
selfish.

At last Dr. Gradus gave up in despair,
and wrote a letter to Philip's father, in-
forming him very frankly that there were
no more brains in his son's head than in a
cocoa-nut ; that he would do nothing but
sleep and cram, from morning till night ;
that he woke the boys in his dormitory
every night by yelling with the nightmare,
because he had eaten so much at supper \

36 pop-guns.

and that he was very sorry, but Master
Philip must leave the school ; and he
advised, that the very best thing to do
with him was to bind him out to a plain
country farmer, where he would have to
rise at the first peep of day — and work
hard till sunset.

Philip's father thought long and seri-
ously over this letter — then he took a jour-
ney ; and on his return he brought with
him a farmer, and an intelligent-looking
country lad.

The boy's name was John Goodfellow,
and he looked as good as his name —
for his clear blue eyes sparkled with
good-nature ; his cheeks shone with good
health ; and his voice had a tone of
good-breeding, notwithstanding his plain
country dress and manners. I have no
doubt his mother was a good woman,
his father a good man, and we know
the name of all three was Goodfel-
low— and so much goodness in a bunch,

PHILIP BADBOT. 37

makes me write about it with extra good-
will.

A day or two after the return of Philip' s
father, a great clumsy farm wagon came
lumbering up the avenue of Dr. Gradus' s
seminary ; driving it, was a rough-look-
ing man, and beside him sat a bright-faced
boy, — the same man and boy who made
their appearance, when Philip's father
returned from his journey.

The man got down and rang a tremen-
dous peal upon the bell. The servant
thought the President of the United States
had arrived, and flew to answer it.

" Does Dr. Great Dust live here ?" asked
the man.

"How dare you come and tear the
house down at this rate?" cried the angry
servant, seeing that it was not "grand
company." " What do you want, you old
bear?" #

The old bear, being good-natured, burst
out laughing. "Don't spoil your pretty

38 POP-GUNS.

face," lie said, "by getting it into a twist.
When I give a pull, I always give a strong
one; and you must a been greasing of
your bell, for it came out like a shot. Hum !
Now s'pose you tell me if Dr. Great Dust
lives here. I should think he did, by the
one you've kicked up about nothing."

" Well, he does, and what of it V

"Only I want to see him, and here's a
letter," holding it out.

The woman took the letter and showed
the farmer and his boy into a small room,
while she went up-stairs to the doctor's
study.

There he sat, to be sure, a grave, learned
man, with spectacles perched on his nose,
a great frown in his forehead, rather dirty
wristbands, a pen behind his ear, and
ever so many papers before him, written
as full as they could hold of Latin and
Greek themes, which the larger boys in
the school had sent in for examination.
Of course there was no end of mistakes in

PHILIP BADBOY. 39

most of them ; and as to Philip' s copy, it
was just one hodge-podge of farrago and
nonsense.

"Oh, that hopeless "booby of a hoy!"
the doctor was exclaiming to himself, as
he took up this last paper, when there
came a knock at the door.

With the permission to enter, the ser-
vant approached, handed the letter, and
said that there were two bumpkins down
stairs waiting for the answer.

"Show them up," said the doctor.

Then he opened his letter, took out an
envelope, read the first, stared, read again,
rang the hell, and sent for Philip, first giv-
ing the servant an order in a low voice.

In the mean time the rough-looking far-
mer and the "boy, neither of whom de-
served to Tbe called "bumpkins, came in,
and, having bowed as well as they knew
how, sat down in a corner.

It was during recess in school hours
that all this happened, and our idle friend,

40 POP-GUNS.

Master Philip, was fast asleep in the
school-room. The rind of an orange, the
cores of several apples, a grammar tnrned
upside down, and some very sticky paper
that had held candy,* lay on the desk. In
the midst of them was Philip's head. His
face was very sticky too, and glued fast to
the extreme end of his nose was a paper
pellet with which Kriss Luff had carefully
ornamented it, to the tittering delight of
half a dozen of his comrades. This and
his sticky face had made it the duty of
every fly in the room to invite each othei
to the spot to a mass meeting on "business, to
which was added a grand feast, and gym-
nastic exercises ; so there they all were,
as lively as you please — standing on their
heads, hanging by one leg, whisking, and
frisking, and eating, and "buzzing, and
grumbling, and fighting over the spoils,
like hungry hawks or aldermen.

"Wake up, Master Philip!" cried the
servant, giving him a push. "You're

PHILIP BADB0Y. 41

wanted in the doctor' s study, and his face
is as long as my arm. I guess he has got
"bad news for yon. What' s that on the
end of your nose f

"Bad news," repeated Philip, tearing
off the paper pellet. "Was it worth
while disturbing my nap for that % Go to
Guinea!"

"But you must come — "

" Go to Guinea with your Ibad news !"

"Well, I will tell the doctor what you
say."

This threat started Philip, and grum-
bling to himself he hurried into the* study.

When he entered he saw a boy of his
own age, who was now standing up study-
ing with great interest a large map of the
United States which hung against the wall,
a plain, good-natured looking man, and
the doctor, who was handing him a letter.

"Philip," said the doctor, with a very
solemn face, "I am sorry to tell you that
my letter from your father informs me

42 pop-guns.

that you must leave school immediately:
not to go home," he added, for he saw
the boy's face "brightening. " Your father
and mother have just left the country on
important "business ; where they have gone
is to Ibe kept a secret; and now, as you
are determined not to learn — as you have
made up your mind to grow up an igno-
rant, useless creature — your father has
"bound you apprentice to this worthy far-
mer, whose son takes your place here. If
the good man is pleased with you, he is to
give you a small weekly allowance ; but
I warn you beforehand, he will put up
with none of your lazy habits ; and if he
finds that you will not obey him, why
then" — here the doctor lowered his voice
— "he has in his stable a horse- whip,
which will wake you up better than my
ferule."

Philip stood perfectly petrified at this
sudden and most dreadful disclosure. His
knees shook — he dropped Ms letter — his

PHILIP BADBOT. 43

teeth chattered ; and when the farmer, at
a sign from the doctor, approached him
with, "Come, my little man, go and get
ready; my time is money to me," poor
Philip sprawled down on his knees, cry-
ing—

"No! no! I don't want to go! Oh,
Dr. Gradus, pray let me stay here ! I will
study ! I will ; indeed I will ! I will sit
up all night and construe my Latin, and
work out those awful logarithms which
nearly crack my head to understand. I'll
never say again I can't bear the sight of
figures. Oh, I shall go distracted! Oh!
oh! oh!"

"No doubt you think you will learn
now, but by to-morrow you will have for-
gotten all these fine promises" — and the
doctor gave the farmer another sign, who
grinned understandingly ; then, bringing
his great fist down upon the table, and
making some glass retorts and all the
books bounce, cried in a gruff voice —

44 POP-GUNS.

"Come, sir, this won't answer; neither
I nor my horses can stand here doing
nothing. Make your bow to the master,
and come along."

Philip struggled, and kicked, and tum-
bled about, looking as if he was all legs
and arms — not a very graceful figure, you
may believe ; and he cried and screamed,
"Let me go-o-o! let me go-o-o !" as the
farmer dragged him all the way down
stairs, and out of the house. Yes, he
screamed louder than ever Out of the
house, in hopes of attracting some atten-
tion from his school-fellows to his sad
fate ; but not a single boy ran to see who
was making such a dismal howling ; they
were all now in class.

When he was safely stowed away in
the wagon, amidst the empty corn-sacks,
the servant brought out his trunk of
clothes which the doctor had ordered her
to pack, and the letter which the now sob-
bing boy had dropped in the study ; then

PHILIP BADBOT. 45

she went back for a moment and returned
with some school-lbooks fastened together
by a leather strap ; and seeing how much
Philip appeared to be suffering, she forgot
how many times he had thrown her dust-
cloth out of the window, and sent her
broom and dust-pan flying after it; her
heart melted, and she said kindly —

" Never mind, Master Philip; if you
doesn't behave, you must expect to be
punished; but it'll do you good, like
physic. Just you try to be a first-rate
boy, and you'll be back here in a good
deal less than no time."

u Master Philip, indeed !" cried the far-
mer. " Pretty well for a stable-boy!
You'll be plain Phil as long as you live
with me, I can tell you. Stop that pla-
guy snuffling and sighing, making such
a dismal whistling about my ears! it's
enough to knock a sloop over. If you are
ever so good, you will never make up
for the loss of my Jack, and I'll be bound

46 pop-guns.

his poor little sister Essie is crying for him
' this very moment. " ,

The wretched boy choked down his
sobs, and crept into a corner among the
corn-bags, where he hid himself, wiping
away the big tears that fell silently. Soon
the slow motion of the wagon soothed him.
He lay for a while drowsily watching the
trees and the wild roses growing on the
fences, that sent their faint sweet perfume
in to him with a gentle wave of their
pretty heads ; and presently, as the horses
turned into a road which lay through a
cool, quiet wood, the myriad leaves of
which made a deep shade, our young
friend gave a final sigh, and, opening his
mouth and shutting his eyes, forgot all his
troubles, and snored tunefully to the end
of the journey.

After four hours' driving, just as the
sun was setting, the farmer turned down a
crooked lane, perfectly alive with grass-
hoppers, and soon came in sight of a strag-

PHILIP BADBOY. 47

gling red house, at the door of which
stood a nice-looking woman, and a little
pale, yellow-haired girl, supported by
crutches. In another moment out rushed
a very small brown dog, who fairly
" barked himself sideways," in his intense
joy at seeing his master ; then he jumped
up so high that he fell oyer backwards, —
the whole time wagging his ridiculous
morsel of a tail so fast, that it looked like
six tails all going round like a windmill.

The farmer jumped out of the wagon,
and, heartily kissing his wife, stooped
down and tenderly stroked the soft locks
of the little pale crippled child ; then lift-
ing her in his arms, he kissed her five or
six times, saying between each kiss, in a
deep loving voice, "My little Essie — my
little Essie."

"My little father," laughed Essie, pat-
ting the big man's cheek, "what a dear,
good little man you are."

At the sound of her soft, gentle voice,

48 pop -guns.

and the pat of her small hand, the farmer
hugged her closer to his breast. Then he
looked down into her sweet blue eyes,
and said, "O-h, Essie!" The great love
that flowed out with these two words, no
pen can show.

"Tell me, little father," whispered Es-
sie, "have you got the bad boy with
you?"

" Yes, big darling," said the farmer.

Then he carried her to the side of the
wagon, and showed her a great, red-faced
boy, fast asleep on the corn-sacks.

"Why, he's asleep !" she said.

" Sound as a top ; but we'll wake him
up, my little maid." So the farmer picked
up a long straw from under the seat, and
drew it across Phil's upper lip.

" Ow ! get out," cried the boy, rubbing
his face violently.

Essie laughed, and the farmer tickled
Phil under the nose again.

"Owl ow!" cried Phil, kicking out

PHILIP BADBOY, 49

with both his legs, and butting his head
against the side of the wagon. "Hang
the old fly." Then starting up, he opened
his eyes, and stared wildly at Essie and
her father.

" Come, Phil," said the farmer kindly,
"we're home ; get down, and come in the
house."

All at once the boy remembered, and
with something between an oh! and a
groan, he followed his new master.

In they all went — and what a nice little
room it was, to be sure ! Great bunches
of feathery asparagus filled the fireplace ;
a canary bird, in a pretty cage, hung in
the open window, through which the
sweet breaths of honeysuckles came float-
ing ; not a speck of dust could be found
on chairs or table, and the rag carpet
was as clean as brooms could make it.
Over the mantelpiece was an engraving
of Cain and Abel, which Essie did not
like ; and opposite, one of little Samuel
4

50 POP- GUNS.

praying, which she did. Through the door
facing to that by which they had entered
came a sound of frying, and an appetizing
fragrance of ham.

Phil flopped sulkily down on the first
chair ; then he gaped as if the top of his
head had got unhinged, and was fall-
ing off backwards; then he stretched
out his arms till his shoulder-blades
cracked, and then he grumbled out — "I
am hungry."

"What, already!" exclaimed the far-
mer. "Why, the girl at Dr. Gfradus's said
you had eaten one orange, three apples,
and a quarter of a pound of lollipops, be-
side your dinner."

" I don't care ! I'm hungry ! Oh, what
will become of me ! Where can my father
be gone ! Oh ! how miserable I am!"
whined Phil.

" Poor boy !" said little Essie, her blue
eyes filling with compassionate tears ;
"give me my crutches, please, dear father,

PHILIP BADBOY. 51

and I will go right in the kitchen and
hurry the tea."

Her father did as she wished, and oh !
then, it would have done you good if you
could have seen the little thing hobbling
to the kitchen door, and crying out so
pleasantly, as she rested on the crutches,
to give a smart clap of her hands — "Hurry
up, Hannah. Let's have tea before you
can say Jack Robinson I"

You would hardly believe how the good
woman bustled about after that ! She tore
to the dresser and got a dish ; she flew to
the table and caught up a fork ; and in a
trice the ham was out of the frying-pan,
in the dish, and on the table, which was
already set in the kitchen ; then one, two,
three, a dozen hot snowballs of potatoes —
that's a funny idea! — were whipped out
of a pot in the corner, into a big bowl,
and those put on the table, opposite the
ham ; then tha tea was set to steam, and,
while that was doing, Hannah skipped

52 POP-GUNS.

round like a crazy monkey, and thump,
thump, thump, thump, just like that, four
chairs were set to steam — no, I don't mean
that — I mean, to the table ; hut I'm in
such a hurry to tell it all before you can
say Jack Robinson, you know ! and then
tea was ready.

It was all done in two minutes, because
Hannah loved little Essie so dearly; but
-she could not help looking rather crossly
at the greedy hoy, who hardly waited for
grace to be said, before he began to eat as
if he meant to give himself half-a-dozen
stomach aches, and a horrible nightmare,
when he went to bed, by his gourmand-
izing.

When he could not possibly swallow
another morsel, he pushed back his chair,
and, in five minutes, was in a heavy sleep,
snoring like a trumpet.

"Wife," said the farmer, " if that chap's
father hadn't promised to give our John-
ny at least three months of first-rate educa-

PHILIP BADBOY. 53

tion, if we would consent to this queer
experiment, I don't think I could Keep
such a lout about the place."

" How long is he' to stay f

" Why, I tell you, it is to be for three
months, if he gives up his lazy, ugly
ways ; if not, six months ; and all this time
he's not to know where his parents are ;
and I've promised to watch him like a cat,
so that he don't run away."

"I tell you what, husband," said the
good woman, "if any thing will make a
good boy of him, it will be living with our
little Essie hel-e ;" and she looked through
the kitchen door, into the sitting, or "liv-
ing room," as country people call it, at her
darling, who was bending her golden
curls over a book called " Neighbor Nelly
Socks," and laughing out every little
while, as if it was very amusing.

All this time Philip was snoring. The
farmer's wife let him sleep until Hannah
had had her tea, and had washed the plates

54 POP-GUNS.

and dishes, and made all neat ; then she
shook him up and down as if he were a
Tbig bottle of medicine, and, taking his
arm, helped him up-stairs into the garret,
where was a little cot Ibed in a corner,
with a straw mattress, covered with coarse,
but clean sheets.

" Is — this — my — room V ' gasped Phil-
ip, with a horror-struck countenance.

" Plenty good enough for a stable-hoy,"
answered Mrs. Groodfellow, for of course
you know by this time that she was John-
ny Goodfellow's mother.

" But I'm a-f-r-a-i-d."

" Afraid of what?"

" I d-o-n't know. It's such a big, dark
place."

"Oh, if that's all, there's nothing here
but dried apples and onions ; two broken
chairs, which my Johnny has played
horses with many a time, and an empty
poll parrot's cage, which has travelled
with him and his horses, all over the

PHILIP BADBOT, 55

world, up here in the old garret. Bless
your heart ! Johnny thinks it's great fun
to bring little Essie up here, to play, rainy
days. So yon say your prayers, and go
to sleep ; as it is yonr first night here, I'll
leave the light. Qood-night."

She left the unhappy boy, who sat on
the side of his cot, and stared fearfully
around. The little oil lamp gave but a
feeble glimmer, and he jumped as if he
had seen a ghost, as his eye caught sight
of an old great-coat hanging from one of
the rafters; then he began slowly to un-
dress. As he took off his jacket a letter
fell out of the pocket. It was the one
Dr. Gradus had given him from his father,
which in his misery he had forgotten. He
opened it and read as follows :

" My dear Son — You seem to think that
the whole world is made of plum pud-
dings and pie-crust, and that all you have
got to do is to eat your way through it,

56 pop-guns.

"with as little exertion as possible. ' There
is no royal road to learning.' If you want
to grow up any better than a two-legged
donkey, you must study and work.

"If you won't do this, you had "better
go on all fours at once.

"I shall now make one last effort to rouse
you to diligence, and a wish to discover
what your brains were made for. At pres-
ent they are no better than calves' brains,
only fit to be boiled and served up with
sauce ; although you have been told often
enough that they were given you for your
own use, improvement, and the good of
others ; that the more you study and cul-
tivate your faculties, the wiser, better, and
happier you will be. But this good ad-
vice has been thrown away, and I intend to
bestow all your advantages upon Johnny
Groodfellow, the farmer's son, who loves
learning as much as you do pastry and
cake; and you are to take his place —
groom horses, follow the plough, chop

PHILIP BADBOY. 5?

wood, draw water, and do up generally
what farmers call 'chores,' which, I be-
lieye, means a hundred and fifty different
things.

" When you have learned to execute all
these things quickly and cheerfully — mind !
1 say cheerfully — if you wish to return
to your studies, and become something
more than a two-legged donkey, I shall
"be very glad to take you back to your
home and* my love ; but until then, do not
expect to hear from your grieving mother,
or sorrowful father,

"James Wiseman.' '

Here was a terrible letter indeed ! and
Philip sank down on his bed, and miser-
ably reflected upon his bad habits, and
the happy home which now seemed lost
'forever. Conscience began to be busy
with him ; and all the little fellows whom
he had tormented with his "snapper" ap-
peared tc rise up in the far gloom of the

58 POP- GUNS.

garret, laughing inaudibly, and making
faces at him. "Oh," he thought, "if I
could only get back to school, I would
be kind to them, I would study, I would
try to please Dr. Gradus and my parents."
In the midst of these very sensible re-
flections, the trouble of which was, that
they came a little too late, the light went
out, and, covering his head with the bed-
clothes, Philip lay shaking with foolish
fears, till he fell into a troubled sleep.
He forgot to say Ms prayers.

The next morning, just after daylight,
a sonorous voice resounded through the
garret, and seemed to shake the brown
rafters — " Phil-ip, Phil, wake up !"

"Yes sir," cried the boy, springing out
of bed, and staring wildly. "Why, where
ami?"

Alas! it all came back too soon, and
Philip felt that he was indeed only a
stable-boy, when he saw that a coarse
pair of dark blue overalls and rough cow-

PHILIP BADB0Y. 59

hide shoes had "been put on the chair by
the side of the bed, in place of his own fine
broadcloth pantaloons and patent leather
boots. He put the rough clothes on with
heavy sighs, not waiting to tie the shoes,
as the farmer shouted to him to "make
haste and come to the stable.' '

When he got there, he was taught how
to wash and curry the great farm horses,
put on halters, and take them to a trough
in the farmyard to water. Then he had
to bring them back and harness them, and
fasten them to the pole of the wagon, for
the farmer, who had been loading it with
vegetables and fruit to take to market to
sell, while Phil was left behind with
orders to clean the stables, and prepare the
litter for night. He was not alone in
these labors, for a man who helped in the
fields and garden, worked with him for the
present, and gave him a great deal of
good-natured advice and assistance.

Phil felt very miserable, almost des-

60 ^ POP- GUNS.

perate ; "but lie had the sense to perceive,
that the only way to get hack to his former
station was to do his duty here. So he
worked slowly hut steadily all day, with
many sighs and groans, wiping away a
great tear now and then with his shirt-
sleeve.

It was certainly lonely dull work ; and
some of it not very nice ; for he had to
feed ahout fifty great pigs, and everyhody
knows that pigs never use Cologne, and
had rather roll in a mud-puddle than take
a warm "bath with plenty of nicely scented
soap. So all the time he was bringing
these grunting, snorting, had-smelling ani-
mals their food, which the farm man
very properly called "swill," he held
his breath till he nearly hurst ; while the
pigs, fighting, kicking, hutting, and push-
ing, ate their dinner in the midst of a regu-
lar riot. Oh ! I wonder if children ever
eat in this fashion ?

There was one peasant duty which

PHILIP BADBOY. 61

helped to brighten the gloom of the rest.
Just before sundown, Essie came to find
him, almost skipping on her little crutches.

" Will you come and help me feed the
chickens?" she asked, in her sweet song-
voice.

Philip ran to her. He did not speak,
but she saw that he was glad to come.
They both went into the kitchen, and Es-
sie directed him to get a great tin pan,
and fill it with rich-looking gold-colored
Indian meal. Then she poured hot water
into it from a pitcher, while he stirred the
meal with a wooden spoon, with all his
might and main. Oh, how good it smelt !
Phil almost wished he was a chicken.

They went out, and Essie called, " Chick,
chick: here, chick, chick." In a moment
there was such a scuttling, and clucking,
and running ! Up they rushed by dozens ;
and as Phil threw great spoonfuls of the
meal, how they did scratch, and snatch,
and give each other sudden sly pecks !

62 POP-GUNS.

It was very funny, Phil thought, and he
and Essie laughed merrily ; but only fun-
ny, I am sure they would say, for chickens.
I do not think any one will ever try to
teach chickens or pigs to eat with knives
and forks, and say, "If you please," and
" Thank you," for what they get ; but you
will all agree that neatness and politeness
at the table are expected as a matter of
course from well-bred children.

And now the sun had set, like a king
gone to repose, with his crimson and gold
curtains closing round him. In the gor-
geous light little Essie stood looking at the
west, the red clouds tinging her pale
cheeks with a faint blush, and shedding
a warm glow over her yellow curling
hair.

"Oh, Phil," she murmured, "how kind
God is to make us such a beautiful world.
Thank you, dear Father in heaven," she
continued, folding her small hands rever-
ently, and looking upwards ; then turning

PHILIP BADBOY. t>3

to Philip, "You say your prayers. You
love Jesus, don't you?"

The color rushed into his face, and
every nerve in him thrilled, as he looked
at the lovely child and heard her words.
In a hoarse, "broken voice, he answered —

"I haven't said prayers for a long
time."

"Oh, Phil, how dreadful! when our
Saviour loves you so much, and begs you
to bring all your troubles to Him. What
made you % Did you forget V

"I don't know. I suppose so," said
Phil, looking down.

She went close up to him, and leaning
on her crutches, curled her arms round his
neck, and whispered —

"Pray to-night, dear Phil, will you?"

A great sob rose in his throat. With a
terribly painful effort, he choked it down,
for he was too proud to cry before a girl,
and he managed to say, "I'll try," to Es-
sie, whom God seemed to have chosen as

64 POP-GUKB.

His little minister to lead Phil "back to
Him.

Just then a lumbering farm wagon came
in sight. In it was just the pleasantest-
looking old man that ever was seen, with
long snow-white hair and "blue eyes, still,
clear, and bright.

"Well, little bonny bird," he said to
Essie, "do you know I have promised to
catch you up, and carry you off?"

"Do you mean to lock me up in a fairy
palace?" asked Essie, laughing.

"I am to take you to a great big man,
who will snap you up, put you in# his
wagon, and hold you fast, so that you can-
not escape."

"Did the big man call me his ' Little
Essie?'"

"This is what he said : ' Farmer Hardy,
I've got to turn off about two miles from
home, on some business. You'll be going
past my house ; won't you stop and bring
my little Essie, on your way home ? I will

Little Essie going to meet her father.

PHILIP BADBOY. 65

be at the cross-roads and meet you, and
get my white lamb, and take her back
again.' "

"It's dear father," said Essie, and she
laid down her cratches, and was tenderly
lifted into the wagon, and bidding Phil
"good-by" for an hour, drove off with
good old Farmer Hardy, talking pleasantly
with him.

And poor Phil was left behind lament-
ing ; for it seemed as if it grew suddenly
dark, as the sound of the wheels got faint
and fainter, and at last died quite away.
Then he went to the end of the crooked
lane, and climbed into the fork of a tree
to watch for Essie' s return.

You may be sure, when the dear little
child was met by her father, and lovingly
placed close beside him for the pleasant
ride home, she told him how good Phil
had been all day, at which Farmer Good-
fellow looked very much pleased ; and
when he and Essie got to where the tree

66 POP-GUNS.

was in which Phil had perched himself,
he was told to jump into the wagon, and
they all came down the crooked lane, just
as the stars were peeping out, three very
happy people.

I don't think you would have known
Phil for the same boy, had you seen how
he flew round, giving the horses their sup-
per, putting them in their comfortable
stalls, and dragging at the wagon, with,
the help of the farm man, to get it safely
housed. The hoys at the school would
certainly have declared that it could not
"be " Philip Badboy," but a sensible, in-
dustrious fellow called Philip Wiseman.

And the farmer showed how much he
was gratified, by giving him a seat next
his own at the table, and letting Essie help
him twice to apple-sauce.

"I dare say," said the farmer, "you
will like farming better than Greek and
Latin ; while my son John is all for books.
Learning suits Mm to a T."

PHILIP BADBOY. 67

Phil blushed deeply, and hung down
his head.

' ' Never mind, ' ' said the farmer ; ' ' you' ve
got your good points too. To-morrow is
Sunday. After you have done your sta-
ble-work, you can go to church, and if
you listen to our good parson, you can't
help improving."

That night Philip knelt down in his

lonely garret, and asked God to forgive

his many sins, for Jesus' sake. His face

was wet with penitent tears when he rose,

and God heard his prayer, and saw the

tears.

* * * # * # #

Let us go back to the school. You
would have thought that Johnny Good-
fellow, who was left in place of Philip
Badboy, wore a fairy talisman outside of
his heart, which made everybody love
him, so great a favorite did he become
almost immediately. Yes, he wore a
charm ; but it was inside his heart, and.

68 POP-GUNS.

it was called Love. Do you know, dar-
ling little reader, whom /love with all my
heart — that in that sublime chapter in
Corinthians which tells about Charity, it
is Love which is meant % The word in the
original is "Love ;" but for good reasons,
and so as not to be misunderstood — be-
cause this word "love" has not always a
divine meaning — the translator chose the
word "Charity." And now, whenever
you read the beautiful chapter, which I
hope you do very often, and, what is
more, practise its heaven-sent lessons, al-
ways think that "Charity" means the
purest "Love."

How the little fellow did study! It
seemed as if he could not say his lessons
wrong if he tried ; and in play hours, he
frolicked at such a rate with his particular
friend Kriss Luff, who clung to him from
the very first day, that he did not lose his
bright rosy cheeks, as his good mother had
feared. He wrote her a long letter once a

PHILIP BADBOY. 69

week, sending many loving messages to
his father and darling sister Essie, and not
forgetting Phil. And once, when a trav-
elling photographic gallery came np to
the school, he had himself taken with his
arm round his friend Kriss's neck ; and he
particularly requested that Kriss should
"be looking at his watch at the moment, as
it would seem such a grand thing, he said,
for a boy to have one.

Johnny learned to construe Latin in such
a surprisingly short time, that Dr. Gradus
forgot one morning to be as pompous as
usual, and tapping his new scholar on the
back, told him he was an honor to the
school, and said he was quite a "multum
in parvo," which, I am certain, meant a
great compliment, for Johnny colored
deeply, while an expression of delight il-
lumined his features. It is a very majestic
thing to praise people in Latin ; but for
my part, I wish Dr. Gradus had talked
English, don't you? If you can find out

70 POP-GUNS.

what "multum in parvo" means, just
write it to me in a dear little letter, directed
to the care of Mr. Sheldon.

Of course Johnny told Kriss all about
his sister Essie ; how pretty and good she
was, and how she had to walk with
crutches, because she had hurt her knee
when she was a little bit of a thing, and
the leg that was injured never grew any
more, at which Kriss was dreadfully sor-
ry, and sent his love to her, and a funny
little picture, in an envelope, of a boy who
was pulling out the nose of his sister's
india-rubber doll, and making it at least
half a yard long. And Essie, in return,
sent him a great gingerbread cake, which
she helped to make herself, and Kriss had
what he called "a public dinner" off of
it, and made a fine speech, standing on
top of the pump in the play-ground ; after
which he cut a slice of cake for every boy,
all elegantly arranged on cabbage leaves
for plates, upon receiving which they gave

PHILIP BADBOT. 71

him three perfectly tremendous cheers,
and in five minutes more every single
crumb had disappeared.

And Johnny kept rosy and fat, although
he really seemed to live on geography, the
multipHcatior table, and the Latin gram-
mar ; but he could play too ; for Kriss
declared that he could run faster, jump
higher, swim longer, and shout louder
than any other fellow in the school, which
was very remarkable, for some of the boys
could run like lamplighters, jump like
kangaroos, swim dog-fashion and crab-
fashion, dive like stones, float like feathers,
stand on their heads under water and bow,
to you with their feet, and as to shouting,
I only wish you could hear them once —
that's all.

* * * * * * *

All the boys agreed that Johnny made
the very best back of them all at leap-frog,
— so strong and square, with his hands
firmly planted on his knees, and looking

72 pop-guns.

between his legs with his round face up-
side down. Then he was a capital hand
at mending broken-down drums, toy-carts,
horses, and all manner of playthings. The
little boys in the school would bring them
to him, and, first hugging him, would coax
him to "make them as good as new," un-
til he declared that the little closet in
his room was a perfect hospital, of which
he was the doctor, and a jack-knife and
Spalding's glue the medicines.

And such wonderful kites as he could
make ! They quite astonished the whole
neighborhood, birds and all. A famous
one which he made was, as he declared,
a genuine portrait of a round-shouldered,
bullet-headed member of Congress he had
seen, whose brains being made of feathers,
were just the very ones to go off in a high
wind, at a tangent, and never touch any
sensible thing, or cut even a curve in the
air, much less a difficult question. So the
member of Congress was painted on an

The Hon. Mr. Kite.

PHILIP BADBOT. 73

immense sheet of tissue paper, and fur
nished with an exceedingly long tail, made
of scraps of cotton-wadding tied on a
string at intervals of four inches, and so
light that it balanced his brains to per-
fection. When he was finished, he was
dubbed "The Honorable Mr. Kite;" and
many a fine day did the honorable gentle-
man air his feather-brains over the broad
fields, and look down with his stupid fat
face at the delighted boys, who all took
turns in giving him a "flier."

But perhaps the very best of Johnny's
social accomplishments came out on rainy
days, when he told stories without end,, so
excellent was his memory of what he had
read or heard ; and the bright play of his
features added so much to the interest, that
the boys declared, when they came to read
the very same stories in books, as some-
times happened, they did not seem one
quarter as good. I really feel tempted to
tell you one of them, though, like the

74 pop-guns.

boys, you will lose three-quarters of the
interest because you do not get it direct
from him. Shall I.

Aunt Fanny had read thus far in her
manuscript, when she paused, looked up,
and repeated, " Shall I V9

" Oh, yes ! yes ! if you please," cried all
the children.

"But it won't seem more than a quarter
as entertaining."

"Oh, you funny Aunt Fanny! you
know we shall like it just as well — better.
But tell us, did you hear that jolly Johnny
Goodfellow tell a story 3"

"Of course I did," she answered, "and
this is the way he did' it. First, let's all
sit down on the carpet."

You would have thought that each of
the children had been presented with a
fine present, they received this proposition
with such delight and so many chuckles.
Down they all got in a bunch, with Aunt
Fanny in the midst. Then she clasped her

PHILIP BADBOY. 75

hands over her knees, made her mouth
into a button-hole, and looked up at a
corner of the ceiling, pretending to think.
She looked so long, that Fred, full of
Johnny Groodfellow and his story, quite
forgot he was speaking to Aunt Fanny,
and shouted —

" Come, old fellow! we're all waiting;
why don't you "begin ?"

Then suddenly remembering himself, he
turned as red as scarlet, and stammered
out —

"Oh, I didn't mean- 1 beg your par-
don."

The button-hole mouth broke loose, and
Aunt Fanny burst out laughing, as she
said —

"That was just what I wanted. Now,
attention, squad ! Aunt Fanny has jumped
over the moon, and Johnny Goodfellow is
here in her place to tell you the wonderful
tale, a good deal altered, which he read in
an English magazine, called

76 POP-GUNS

"BROTHER BOB'S BEAR."

Once upon a time, a Yankee farmer
found he had snch a lot of children, that
they cost him more than they were worth.
So he concluded to emigrate out West,
where the old ones could shoot game and
plant corn and keep out of mischief, and
the young ones could laugh and grow fat
"by rolling on the prairies and eating hasty-
pudding.

He found that he was well enough off,
when he got to his new home, to "build a
very aristocratic log-house. Very few,
you know, have more than one room,
while his had three — all elegantly ceiled
with hemlock-lbark, with the smooth side
out — quite gorgeous, you may believe.

It was in May that he moved, and the
whole summer was "before the children to
frolic in, and have a grand good time ; and

PHILIP BADBOY. 77

the eldest brother, Bob, began the game
by shooting a bear who wanted to hug
him. Yon know a bear' s hng is a remark-
ably tight squeeze, and generally takes
your breath away for good. So Bob de-
clined the honor, and popped a bullet in
the bear's cranium, and carried home in
his arms a perfect little darling of a cub,
for the poor bear was a mother.

Oh, what a welcome the little cub got !
It was hugged and kissed all round ; and
Bob, congratulating himself that it was too
young to mourn long for the loss of its
mother, solemnly declared that he intended
to be a mother to it for the rest of its life.
And he kept his word.

The cub, who was named Moses, slept
with Bob, always laying his nose in a sen-
timental manner oyer Bob' s shoulder. He
grew very fast ; you could almost see him
grow ; and there really seemed no end to
the bread and milk and mush and butter
he would eat.

78 POP-GUNS.

The first winter he was kind of numb
and stupid, and spent a great deal of time
in sleeping and sucking his paws. But
when the warm weather came on, he was
the happiest little hear in the world, fol-
lowing Brother Bob about like a dog, and
only miserable when he lost sight of his
master. He always woke him in the morn-
ing ; and as the bear liked to get up
early, you see he was quite a blessing to
Bob in this respect, as getting up early, ac-
cording to the proverb, is one of the sure
and certain ways of becoming healthy,
wealthy, and wise. I always feel the wis-
dom sprouting out all over me when I get
up very early in the morning ; but I'm
afraid I should spend all the extra money
I made by early rising in buying an extra
breakfast, for it also makes me so tremen-
dously hungry.

Well, one day Brother Bob had to go a
long journey to buy material for building
a frame house, of a man who had a saw-

PHILIP BADBOY. 79

mill. Moses could not accompany him ;
and this was a dreadful affliction. Bob
had to steal away ; and when the hear
found he had gone, he commenced a search
for him. He went to Bob's bed, and,
beginning at the head, poked his nose
under the sheets and blankets, and gravely
travelled down till he came out at the
foot ; then he turned and slowly marched
up again. He kept this up by the hour,
never stopping till he was shut out of the
room. He then took possession of all
Bob's clothes he could find, and got as
far as he could push into the legs of the
trousers and arms of the coats, still hoping
that his beloved master would be found
in some of the dark corners; and Bob's
mother, half distracted at seeing the clothes
tearing with such rough usage, got them
away with great difficulty,* and locked
them up in a wardrobe.

Then Moses, with tears in his eyes, and
grunting with grief, managed to climb to

80 POP-GUNS.

the top of the wardrobe, and seized a large
Bible which rested there, and, curling
himself up into a round ball, dropped on
the floor, hugging the Bible fast. Bob's
mother tried to get this away, but the bear
showed fight for the first time, and kicked
out his hind legs, and gave sly dabs at the
broomstick with which she was beating
him ; but he held the book tight, and
Bob' s mother had to give up, and come off
second best ; and what' s more, the bear
knew it, and made use of his triumph
afterward.

When Bob came back, the bear fairly
danced for joy, dropping the Bible, and
showing his contempt for Bob's mother by
taking the butter from the tea-table and
eating it before her eyes. His master gave
him a good drubbing for stealing, and he
submitted to it with perfect indifference,
for his dear master might do as he pleased ;
but when he was not present, butter and
honey, and sugar and molasses, were all

PHILIP BADBOY. 81

taken with the utmost coolness ; and the
poor old lady could not help herself, for
he had now grown so large and strong that
she was afraid of him.

"Oh, Boh," she said, one day, "your
hear is the plague of my life."

"Now, mother," he answered, uyou
have only got to he resolute, and show
that you are not afraid of him."

"But I am afraid of him, and he will do
me some dreadful harm yet."

" Give him a taste of hot poker, mother,
and he'll never bother you again."

"Oh, Boh!" she exclaimed, "I would
not do that for the world !"

And so the hear had his own way,
and hecame a very tyrannical member of
the family, till something happened which
did more than even a mother's remon-
strances.

For Brother Boh fell in love. Just at
this time the Yankee farmer got a neigh-
bor— a very near one for the West, only
6

82 pop-guns.

five miles off— and this neighbor had a
pretty daughter, seventeen years old; so
what does Bob, who, I forgot to tell yon,
was nineteen years old — what does he do
but fall so head over ears in love, that he
declared she was the prettiest and best girl
in the whole universe, which I think was
saying a great deal.

But Snsan (that was her name) treated
Brother Bob shamefully. She played
tricks upon him; she made fun of him
before his face, and kept him perfectly
miserable ; and declared, moreover, that
she did not care half an ear of corn for
him. Here was a pretty state of things !
for even the bear could not comfort the
poor fellow.

But one day Susan and a younger sister
came to take tea with Bob' s mother. They
had never seen Moses, and did not know
of his existence. Bob shut the bear up in
his room, in compliment to the guests, and
the afternoon passed off very pleasantly ;

PHILIP BADBOY. 83

that is, to all but Moses, who was highly
disgusted at being locked in.

When the time came for Susan and her
sister to leave, Bob prepared to see them
home through the path in the woods. He
ran into his room for his hat, never think-
ing of Moses, and left the door open, and
came quickly out of the house, as Susan,
with her teazing ways, had already started.

Down rushed the bear after him, out of
the door, up to Bob, seized him in his
arms, and hugged him, in his joy, in a
way frightful to behold ; and Susan, turn-
ing, saw Bob in this terrible embrace.
She screamed; oh, how she screamed!
and instead of running away, she rushed
right up to the bear, and tried to pull him
off, crying and sobbing, uOh, Bob! dear,
dear Bob! youwill.be killed!" and then
fell fainting to the ground.

Ha ! ha ! Miss Susan, you were found
out ! But Bob behaved very well ; for
he caught her in his arms, and said —

84 POP-GUNS.

" Dear Susan, he is a tame bear ; do not
Tbe afraid."

The poor girl looked like a "broken white
lily, trembling at the bear, and ashamed
that she had showed Brother Bob how
much she cared for him; and when she
had recovered her wits, she cried out pite-
ously —

" Oh, I will never come here again !"

"Yes, you will !" said Bob, "now that
I know you like me. I'll banish the bear,
or put him in prison, or do any thing you
wish."

It was wonderful how many faults Bob
discovered that the poor bear had after
this ; and one day when he snatched a
pudding from the plate in the very hands
of Bob's mother, as she was taking it to
the table, he made up his mind that Moses
must be chained.

So the bear was fastened to a surveyor' s
chain, made tight to a stake in the ground.
He immediately began walking in a circle

PHILIP BADBOT. 85

round the stake, at the extreme length of
the chain, always turning a somerset at
one particular point, and only stopping to
eat, or look reproachfully at Boh when he
came that way. Why he wanted to exer-
cise in this very peculiar fashion, tumbling
head oyer heels at one spot every time he
went around, is a good deal more than I
know; "but I believe all hears who are
chained act in this comical way, though it
can't he much fun to them.

This was all very well in the daytime,
hut sure as night came, Moses broke his
chain, and did his best to get back, into his
master's bedroom. Poor fellow! he so
wanted to lie at the foot of Bob's bed,
hugging an old vest. And at last they
had to build a prison for him of logs, with
a roof of boards kept on by heavy stones.

The very first night the poor bear was
put in this den, he raised the boards off
the roof in his desperate struggle to get
out and see his beloved master. He got

86 POP-GUNS.

his head out, and then, oh ! ah ! alas !
hung by his neck, and was choked to
death — a martyr to his great love for
Brother Bob.

You may be sure, Bob's mother was
rather glad, but, old as he was, Bob could
not help shedding a few tears for his
clumsy, ugly pet. He got a new and
pretty pet before long ; and so it came to
pass that the farmer and all his family
soon gave up bewailing the tragical end of
Beothee Bob's Beae.

" There !" said Aunt Fanny ; " what do
you think of Johnny's story V

"Grand!" cried the children. "We
know more about bears now than we ever
did before."

"I wish I could have a bear," said
Peter.

" Come here and I will give you a bear's
hug," cried Fred.

He jumped upon Peter and squeezed

PHlLIP BADBOY. 87

him till both were perfectly red in the
face, and breathed in puffs. Then Fred
kindly offered to give Annt Fanny a hng ;
but she, jumping up and laughing, said
she had no breath to spare. And after a
good deal of skirmishing around, and
making believe to punch each other with
their elbows, dancing and singing —

" There was an old woman,
Who had but one spoon,
And all she wanted
Was elbow room,
Elbow room, elbow room, —
All she wanted
Was elbow room" —

they consented to sit down quietly to hear
once more about their friend Philip.
* * % * * # *

At the farm, all this time, Phil had been
improving. Not steadily, for no one be-
comes good all at once. He would have
his fits of laziness and sulkiness ; but the
ministering love and sweet example of

88 POP-GUNS.

little Essie soon made him ashamed of him-
self,' and try to conquer the enemy, pray-
ing to his Father in Heaven for help.
Yon know very well, darling children,
that our worst enemies are our evil pas-
sions and "bad habits, and when we gain
a victory over them, all the angels in
heaven rejoice, and then God's Holy
Spirit descends into our hearts, sending a
glow and thrill of happiness all through us.
As Phil grew good-tempered and indus-
trious he began bitterly to regret the ad-
vantages he had neglected and lost while
at school, and when Johnny's letters were
read aloud, his heart would beat violently,
and he would say to himself—" Shall I
ever be so smart? What a miserable,,
foolish fellow I have proved myself !"
• One Saturday evening he went softly up
to Mr. Goodfellow, and asked — "Won't
you please tell me something about my
dear father and mother?" and then burst
into tears.

PHILIP BADBOY. W

"Why, Phil!" cried the farmer, "what's
the matter % Your parents are well, and
know that you are trying to he a better
hoy. Don't cry. The time will soon pass ;
and a little farm learning will not hurt you.
If you go on as you have done this two
or three weeks past, you'll come out all
right, my hoy.".

The next morning, after his work, Phil
washed and dressed himself carefully, and
went to church. His history, hy this
time, was pretty well known, and the good
minister, who had hecome quite interested
in him, had not only "been to see him, hut
had always spoken to him kindly when he
waited in the churchyard after the ser-
vice, while the farmer and his wife talked
awhile to their neighbors.

On this day, Phil went up to the good
clergyman, and, blushing deeply, stam-
mered out, "I should like to speak to
you, sir."

"Well, my dear boy," he answered

90 , POP-GUNS.

kindly, "don't be afraid; tell me what
I can do for yon.

" Oh, sir, if— if— yon would only ask
Mr. Gfoodfellow to let me go to evening-
school. I want to learn — I do indeed."

" Well, that is quite right ; but yon
were at an excellent school. Why did yon
not stndy there V

Phil blushed more deeply than "before,
but he said, trnthfnlly and manfully, "I
neglected my opportunities, sir: I wonld
not learn ; and all the boys hated me — be-
cause I tormented them ; and I did not
want to do any thing harder than to walk
about with my hands in my pockets — or
else to be eating."

"But, my child, did this kind of life
make you happy V

" No, sir. I grew tired of every thing,
and gaped till I sometimes thought the top
of my head would crack off ; and I used
to wish I could sleep all day as well as all
night ; but now, oh ! how I wish I could

PHILIP BADBOY. 91

go Iback and study diligently — although
the farmer and his wife are very kind, and
I could hardly bear to leave dear little
Essie. And I want to see my parents, and
Ibeg them to forgive me" — and here Phil's
lip quivered painfully.

" Well, my son, I will speak to the far-
mer, and if he consents, you shall come to
me for an hour every week-day evening
and continue your studies."

Phil could hardly believe his ears.

"You, sir! come to you!" he ex-
claimed, his* whole face radiant with joy.
"Oh, thank you, thank you; how can I
ever thank you enough !"

He flew to the good farmer, the minis-
ter coming slower, and told him the pre-
cious good news, ending with, "Now I
shan't grow up a dunce !" — and I am afraid
I must add that he took one or two great
joyful jumps in the air, at which the min-
ister looked a little grave, as it was Sun-
day, "but did not say one word of reproof,

92 POP-GUNS.

because lie knew that "boys would be
boys," and sometimes jumped when they
ought to stand as still as a mouse.

It was all settled, and the next even-
ing, just as the stars were peeping out,
Phil shouldered his books, which, you
will remember, were sent away from the
school with him, and almost ran all the
way to the parsonage.

It is perfectly astonishing how easy a
lesson becomes, if you resolutely drive all
other thoughts out of your mind, collect
your five wits, and set to work at your
book. Phil found it so, to his great de-
light. The good minister smoothed away
some of the difficulties which required a
little explanation, and excited his ambition
to conquer others ; and not being near so
pompous as the great Dr. Gradus, though
knowing quite as much, he and Phil got
on capitally together. He did not learn
Greek, Latin, and all manner of hard
things, like a flash of lightning, mind you.

PHILIP BADBOY. 93

If I should "be so absurd as to tell you this,
you would know I was writing about an
impossible boy. But his mind gradually
cleared up, because he no longer eat like
a glutton, and he slept like a top, and
took plenty of healthy exercise, and this
has every thing to do with intellect and
brain. You know, if you have a terrible
headache, or eat a great many buckwheat
cakes for breakfast, you can't do your
sums. So, if you want to grow up a wise
man or woman, try to be a healthy child,
full of good-nature, good-temper, activity,
and courage. They will greatly increase
your ability to learn.

About a mile from Mr. Goodfellow's
farm was a beautiful country place, which
had lately been offered for sale, and one
day, when Phil had been almost three
months in his new home, the farmer, as
he drew in his chair at the tea-table,
said —

"Wife, Woodlawn is bought, and the

94 pop-guns.

owner is coming to take possession next
week."

He gave his wife a peculiarly comical
look as lie said this, and a smile broke
over her face, but she did not ask any
questions.

Phil did not care who was coming; he
was so engaged with his books, and so
happy working out in the fields all day,
that if he could only have heard from his
parents, he would have had nothing left to
wish for.

Just at this time, also, there was a public
examination at Dr. Gradus's school, where
anybody in the company was invited to
put the most puzzling questions to the
scholars. You may be sure, Johnny was
always ready with an answer, except
once, when he and the whole school, and
all the company, burst out laughing, be-
cause a queer old wag of a gentleman,
seeing that Johnny was so quick and
bright, came out suddenly with this —

PHILIP BADBOY. 95

"Look here, my fine fellow. Suppose
a canal-boat heads east-nor'-west for the
horse's tail, and has the wind abeam, with
a flaw coming up in the south, and cats' -
paws showing themselves, would the cap-
tain Tbe justified in taking a reef in the
stove-pipe, without first asking the cook?"

I said everybody burst out laughing ;
but I made a mistake ; for Dr. Gradus rose
up majestically, and made a speech stuffed
full of Latin, in which he observed that
" problems like that the gentleman had
just given were not ta be found in any
of Ms books ;" at which everybody nearly
laughed again — he was so solemn and
pompous about a joke. I forgot to men-
tion that Dr. Gradus was an old bachelor,
and that accounts for it.

Of course, Johnny's father and mother
were present at the examination, with lit-
tle Essie-; and oh ! what three proud and
naPPy people they were, when, at the end
of it, Dr. Gradus got up to present the

96 POP-GUNS.

prizes, and among tile very first names
called was Master Johannes Goodfellow.
At first they did not quite understand that
it was their Johnny, "because Dr. Gradus
turned his Christian name into Latin,
which, you know, made it grander; and
as Johannes's face, — as he walked up,
bowed, and took the splendid book pre-
sented to him, — was perfectly radiant with
happiness, I don't know but what the
Latin had something to do with it. But
when he saw his dear father holding out
his hand to him, his mother's eyes full of
joyful tears, and Essie's rosy lips trem-
bling with excitement and pride in her
darling brother, he very nearly burst into
tears himself; but controlling his feelings
with a strong effort, he grasped his father's
hand for a moment, and then went back
to his seat.

Kriss, Johnny's particular friend, ob-
tained a prize too ; and after they were all
distributed, the company were invited to

PHILIP BADBOT. 97

partake of refreshments in the parlors,
which consisted of very sour lemonade,
and such thin slices of cake, that they were
all weak in the back, and fell over double
when they were taken up. Of course,
nobody ought to be hungry after such a
" feast of reason" on Latin grammars, ge-
ology, mathematics, chemistry, and I don't
know what besides — the very names of
which made Dr. Gradus smack his lips
with delight. He, no doubt, would have
preferred to have dined off of Greek lexi-
cons, with chemical sauce, instead of plum-
cake, with comical sauce (that is, plenty
of fun and laughing), which you and I
would much rather have, wouldn't we \ '

Then Johnny introduced Kriss to his
sister with great pride and delight ; and
Essie' s sweet smile and soft pleasant voice
won his heart, and he immediately told
Johnny, in a whisper, that his sister was
such a dear little girl, and a great deal
prettier than he expected, and her lame-
1

y» POP-GUNS.

ness ought to make everybody as kind
and tender as possible ; and moreover,
that when he grew up to he a man, he
meant to marry Essie, and watch over her,
and make her as happy as the day was
long.

"Oh, delightful!" cried Johnny; "just
fancy ! then you'll he my brother. I
always wished I had a brother. I don't
like the thought of finding that cross Phil
at home ; it will half spoil my holidays.
But we must write to each other, Kriss;
and you shall have Essie when you grow
up ; and then we shall live together all
our lives."

So they parted; for after the examina-
tion there was to be a month's holidays;
and Johnny had as much as he could do
to shake hands and bid good-by to the
crowd of noisy, merry boys, every one of
whom loved him. All the teachers also
shook hands, and hoped he would come
back; and Dr. Gradus," pushing up his

PHILIP B AD BOY. 99

spectacles, and clearing his throat with a
tremendous " hem," said that Master Good-
fellow quite fulfilled the promise of his
name ; at which heavy joke everybody
nearly died of laughter, and all because it
was the great Dr. Gradus who said it.

It was beautiful autumn weather. The
leaves were just beginning to turn; the
dark green woods were flushing into gor-
geous tropical beauty; and four happy
people were riding home, their hearts full
of gratitude and peace, beyond all price.

But when they drove into the crooked
lane, didn't the little brown dog bark him-
self more sideways than ever before, in his
frantic joy at hearing Johnny's voice, for
it was now quite dark ; and didn't Hannah,
and the farm man, and Phil, rush out and
cry, "Hurra ! here they are !" — and Phil's
voice sounded so hearty and pleasant, that
Johnny shook hands with him imme-
diately, and said, "How are you, old
fellow?" as if they had been friends a

100 POP-GUNS.

year, which made Phil very happy, for lie
had been quaking at heart lest Johnny
should not speak to him at all, knowing
what a bad boy lie had been.

As they were sitting at the tea-table,
Phil said —

" There is a note for you, sir, on the
table in the living-room."

" Oh, is there \ Hannah, will you bring
it here % It looks like something impor-
tant," he continued, as he took it in his
hand. "Hm — hm — hm. Well, wife, what
do you think it is % An invitation for all
of us to spend to-morrow evening at
Woodlawn." #

" Indeed!" said Mrs. Goodfellow, with
a bright but peculiar smile on her face.
"Piil is invited, of course?"

"Certainly; and I am glad and proud
to say that I know he will do himself
credit now, wherever he goes. Our good
minister is to be there too."

"Oh, I am glad of that!" said Phil;

PHILIP BADBOY. 101

"he is my best earthly friend — " He
stopped, and Ms eyes filled with tears.

" What is the name of the family who
have bought Woodlawn?" asked Johnny.

" Such a curious chap as it is !" an-
swered the farmer, laughing. "Never
mind the name till to-morrow."

That night there was another cot-bed
put in the garret, and Phil and Johnny
had a long affectionate talk together. Phil
frankly told all about himself, and what
Essie and the good minister, with G-od's
blessing, had helped him to do ; and
Johnny cheered and encouraged him, and
told jiim that he had no doubt but that
Phil's parents had heard of his good con-
duct, and might be expected at the farm
almost any day.

But the poor little fellow suffered terri-
bly himself while he was saying all these
kind things, for, as you know, Phil's gain
would be his loss. If Mr. Wiseman was
convinced of his son's reformation, Johnny

102 P O P - G U N s .

must go "back to farm work, and resign his
precious hopes of growing up a learned
man. His kind father had not yet paid
all the money for his farm ; he could not
afford to hire another hoy in his dear son' s
place ; and now a few months in winter at
the district school was all that Johnny
must expect

But he got up the next day "bright and
happy. It was something — yes, indeed, it
was a great deal — to have such a home as
his ; and after he had washed, dressed, and
said his humhle, thankful prayers, he was
quite ready to race eagerly out with Phil
and the little "brown dog, and see which
could get to the end of the crooked lane
and hack again first.

It was lucky that the little hrown dog' s
tail was fast at one end, and the hair on it
not a wig, for he certainly would have
shook it off, and every single hair out, if
incessant and furious wagging would have
done it ; and the hoys and the dog seemed

PHILIP BADBOY. 103

to have each taken a dose of laughing-gas,
they flew hither and thither in such a ri-
diculous way, just because they were so
happy.

Then Johnny helped Phil with the
horses and the rest of the farm work, and
the little brown dog helped too by getting
between their legs and nearly upsetting
them half a dozen times, and by riding on
one of the horse's backs to water, barking
the whole time to make him hurry, which,
of course, was very funny, and made the
boys laugh heartily.

And when they went in to breakfast,
there was Essie, with a welcome shining in
her sweet blue eyes, and her Bible all
ready to read a chapter, before her father
asked a blessing on the labors and pleas-
ures of the day.

The day was soon spent in cheerful
work, and in the evening they all prepared
for their visit to Woodlawn. Phil made
himself as neat as possible in his farmer' s-

104 POP-GUNS.

"boy Sunday suit. He thought first of ask-
ing Mr. Goodfellow to let him wear the
fine lbroadcloth clothes in which he came
to the farm, but he said to himself a mo-
ment afterwards —

' ' No ; I am only a farm-lboy now ; I will
make no pretence to Tbe any "better, until
my father gives me leave."

He did not need the fine clothes to im-
prove his appearance, for his excellent
habits had made such a change, that he
would hardly have been known for the
same boy. His eyes were bright, his man-
ner animated, and he had learned to be
unselfish, industrious, polite, and kind to
all — though not without many hard strug-
gles and constant prayer.

As the party drove into the great gate
of Woodlawn, and up the long beautiful
avenue, they heard the sound of music,
and a hundred colored lanterns met their
eyes suspended from the trees. They had
the effect of enchantment ; and Essie said

PHILIP BADB0Y. 105

she was sure she saw little fairies dancing
in the shaded alleys on either side, and
peeping and smiling at her from the hushes.
The hoys laughed, hut they too felt the
strange magic of the scene ; and when they
arrived at the brilliantly lighted entrance,
they were prepared, they thought, for all
manner of wonderful events.

After taking off bonnets, shawls, and
hats, they were ushered into a small room,
the walls of which were covered with
"beautiful paintings, at which both the boys
gazed with delight. Two immense closed
doors, opposite the windows, led into an-
other room, from which sounds of laugh-
ing and talking proceeded. '

Presently the good minister came into
the small room, and it was delightful to
witness the mixture of respect and grateful
affection with which Phil hastened to meet
him, and place a comfortable arm-chair for
his use.

" Our host and hostess will be here very

106 ' POP-GUNS.

soon," lie said. "Meanwhile, Philip, if
you like, I will ask you and my friend
Johnny some questions albout your
studies."

The hoys were delighted, and imme-
diately placed themselves before him, their
arms around each other's necks.

Question after question was poured out,
and readily answered by the boys in turn
— Johnny sometimes having to prompt
Phil, and Phil quite as often helping his
friend ; while the farmer, his wife, and
Essie listened with delighted attention:
and two others listened — for a door behind
the boys had been softly opened, and a
gentleman and lady stood with the rest,
their faces beaming and radiant with love
and eagerness.

The good minister saw them, and turn-
ing to Phil, he said —

"My dear boy, you have done so well,
not only in your studies, but in what is of
far more importance, in conquering your

PHILIP BADBOY. 107

bad habits, that all that there is left to
wish for is, that your parents might take
you back to their home and hearts."

The lady gave a sudden start towards
him at this, but the gentleman laid his
hand gently on her arm.

" Oh, sir," answered Phil, his lip quiver-
ing, ' ' will they ever love me again ? Can
they ever forgive me ?"

" Oh, yes ! yes ! my own darling boy !"
screamed the lady.

Philip turned quickly around, became
deadly pale, staggered towards her, and
fell nearly fainting into the outstretched
arms of his mother ; while his father, seiz-
ing his hand, cried —

"God bless you, my son! G-od bless
you ! You have done nobly. You have
made us very, very happy."

Then the rest went softly out of the
room, and Phil had a few moments of
blissful joy. He curled his arm around
his mother's neck, and kissed her over and

108 POP-GUNS.

over again. He hugged his father with
eager affection ; and then darted back to
his mother — laughing, crying, now smooth-
ing her hair, now crumpling her beautiful
lace collar — perfectly beside himself with
ecstasy.

All at once a band of musicians struck
up a martial air, the great sliding-doors
moved back, and Phil's father and mother,
taking his hands, went forward and intro-
duced him to the company, for they were
the owners of Woodlawn. All knew his
story — for you can't keep such a thing
secret in a country place — and they looked
at him with such intense interest, that he
was becoming confused, when who should
dart forward to welcome him but Kriss
Luff and half a dozen of his old school-
mates, all wanting to shake hands at once,
and this making him laugh, he was soon at
his ease.

Oh, what a delightful evening it was !
They played games and sang, they laughed

PHILIP BADBOY. 109

and frolicked — the good minister joining in
every thing, like a real Christian as he was.
They partook in moderation of all manner
of nice things which were loading down a
table in the dining-room, and each one
went home with the recollection of a de-
lightful evening well spent.

Of course, Phil stayed at Woodlawn,
and that was one little drop of unhappi-
ness to the kind people with whom he had
lived so long, and who had learned to love
him very much. They could not Ibear to
part with him. But Johnny was made so
happy, that I do not think he knows to
this day whether he walked home on his
head or like other people ; for Mr. Wise-
man, patting his sturdy shoulders, said to
him —

" Well, my son, are you tired of school
yet?"

" Oh dear, no, sir. I love my books. I
even love Dr. Gfradus."

"Well, that last is convincing; so if

110 POP- GUNS.

your good father, to whom I owe more
than I shall ever he able to repay, will
permit me to find him a farm-hoy, yon
shall go to school and through college with
Phil, and, if you like, choose a profession
afterwards, still under my care."

" Hurra! hurra!" cried Kriss and all
the hoys ; " Johnny Groodfellow is coming
hack to school. Philip Badboy has flown
to the moon, and Philip Wiseman is to
come in his place. It's the j oiliest thing
that ever happened. Three cheers for Mr.
Wiseman."

They gave three cheers and a " tiger," a
"big one too, little Essie helping.

"Now," said Kriss, who had voted him-
self master of ceremonies, " three cheers
for Farmer Goodfellow."

They were given, Phil hurraing with
such a will, that he got perfectly crimson
in the face.

"ISTow, three cheers for little Essie,"
said Kriss.

PHILIP BADBOY. Ill

If Phil could have made more noise, he
would have done so this time ; as it was,
in his eager desire to honor Essie, he
hurraed himself sideways, like the little
"brown dog, and nearly cracked his throat.

"J¥bw, boys, three cheers for Phil, our
new friend."

Didn't they give it, though ! Yes, they
did, and such a royal Bengal tiger to end
with, that the very windows rattled again.

To the children who do not live in JSTew
York, I ought to say that we have a splen-
did regiment of soldiers, called the " Light
Guard," who, whenever they cheer, always
say, " Hurra! hurra! hurra! ti-g-a-r !" I
don't know why they do it, hut this is
what is meant by " three cheers and a
tiger."

Phil bade the farmer, his wife, and little
Essie good-night with tears in his eyes,
promising to come and see them every
day. Mr. Wiseman had invited Kriss and
the other boys to stay a week at Wood-

112 POP-GUNS.

lawn, which was a most delightful fact to
know and experience. A merry, merry
week they all had, and you may be sure
Johnny was included in every day's
pleasure, and Essie was with them very
often.

And now, my darlings reading this, do
you think it likely that Mr. Wiseman will
ever have to send Philip away again ? I
do not, and I hope you are of the same
opinion ; but if you would like me to keep
one eye on his future movements, and
write to you about them, just let me
know, won't you?

x * # •* * * *

" That's all," said Aunt Fanny. " What
do you think of it, my merry men and
ladies % Will Philip Badboy Wiseman do
for a beginning?"

"It's perfectly splendid!" cried the
children.

" And you don't mean to eat greedily of
flower-pot pudding after this, or snap each

PHILIP BADBOY. 113

other's legs with knots in your pocket-
handkerchiefs f

':Oh no, dear Aunt Fanny. This pop-
gun has made us better already. We
mean to be ever so kind, industrious, and
unselfish after this."

"I wish I had a kite like Johnny's,"
said Peter.

" Who knows, if you try to be a loving,
obedient child, but what the Honorable
Mr. Kite may call upon you next spring,
all ready for an airing. I'll have a talk
with my friend Johnny about it."

"Oh goody! will you?" cried Peter,
jumping straight up and down in the air.
"My! how good I'll be! I'm going to
begin right away ;" and he sat down, sol-
emn and stiff, twirling his thumbs one
over the other, and saying, "Look at me !
Only see how good I am!" while the rest
laughed merrily at the joke.

Then Aunt Fanny had a kind kiss from
all, and bade them good-night.
8

POP-GUNS

The next
time* Aunt
Fanny came
she had a
funny and
rather mis-
chievous twinkle
in her eyes. She
did not say a word,
while she unfolded
her manuscript hut
quietly read out
the Pop-gun printed above, and then said
her story was called "by the comical title of

THE DOG'S DINNER-PARTY. 115

THE DOG'S DINNER-PARTY.

The children looked at each other, won-
dering what was coming, then fastened
their eager eyes on the reader, who "began
as follows :

Once npon a time there liyed a fanny,
"bustling, little old gentleman, who thought
that dogs, horses, cats, and monkeys,
onght to live just as he did ; that is, first
and foremost, to behave with perfect polite-
ness, learn to read and write, sit at the
table and eat their meals with knives and
forks, and sleep in French bedsteads, all
tucked up warm. He even insisted on
their wearing clothes and patent leather
boots, and they ran clattering about the
house on their hind legs, with trousers and
coats on, and their tails dangling out be-
hind, like a pocket handkerchief out of a
pocket.

The little bustling old gentleman was a

116 POP- GUNS.

bachelor. He had tried about twenty-nine
times to get married, but the ladies, one
and all, insisted that the dogs, cats, and
monkeys must be turned out of the house,
if they consented to come in, which was
very disagreeable and unreasonable, and
made the old gentleman so mad, he said to
himself he would see them to Jericho first ;
so making each one in turn a very low
bow, for he was the very pink of polite-
ness, he took himself off, and that was the
last of getting married.

So his family consisted of four fine dogs,
six beautiful cats, eight comical monkeys,
one fat cook, and one fat coachman, two
thin housemaids, and nobody knows how
many grooms and footmen — and they all
lived together, a great deal happier than
Barnum's happy family, and what do you
suppose was the reason X Why, they were
taught by the bustling little old gentleman
to be perfectly polite. I forgot to tell you
that his name was Lord Chesterfield.

THE DOG'S DINKEK-PAETT. 117

One day Beppo — one of the family — a
handsome brown and white spaniel, went
out for a walk. As soon as he got ont of
sight of the house, he dived into a bramlble
bush, and scratched off all his clothes, for
they plagued him to death, and he trotted
joyously along, whistling —

" With reading, and "writing, and riches,
For once in my life, I have done !
I've got rid of that old pair of breeches ;
So, hurrah! my brave boys, for some fun!"

Presently he came to a fine river, and
was just thinking he would take a swim,
when he heard a piercing scream, and
something went splash into the water.

Beppo rushed to the "brink just in time to
see a little golden-haired child disappear
under the rippling waves.

In he dashed, like a flying-fish, swam
like lightning to the spot, and caught the
little child's dress in his mouth ; then turn-
ing, swam back, and laid it, drenched and
gasping, on the green bank, just as the

118 POP-GUNS.

nurse, her face white with terror, and her
limbs trembling, was struggling to reach
the shore.

The poor woman caught the beautiful
child in her arms and kissed her, and
thanked Heaven for her rescue. Then she
patted and hugged Beppo, who stood wag-
ging his tail and shaking the water out of
his long silky hair. "Ah, madam," he
said, with a very polite bow, and his fore-
paw on his heart, "I am truly grateful
that I was made a spaniel : if I had been
a stupid poodle-dog I should have been
afraid of the water, and the poor little dar-
ling would have been drowned."

" Why !" exclaimed the nurse in aston-
ishment, " is it possible you can talk ?"

"Yes, ma'am, my master, the Lord
Chesterfield, will have it, though I'd much
rather bark ; and he makes us eat at the
table out of plates, and cut our food with
knives and forks, when I think a marrow-
bone to gnaw, out in the court-yard, is as

nice again ; but he says gnawing bones is
perfectly dreadful, and we must learn to
eat politely."

" Well, that is very funny ! I shall tell
about it as soon as I get home."

So the nurse hastened away, with the
pretty child, and was soon telling the
frightened mother how little Lucy had run
away from her, and tumbled into the river,
and how the beautiful spaniel, who could
talk like a Christian, had saved her life.

The grateful mother went out the next
morning and bought a splendid gold collar,
and had this inscription engraved upon it :
" For the noble and brave dog Beppo, who
saved little Lucy s life."

When the parcel came, the little bustling
old gentleman opened it, and reading the
words on the gold collar, called Beppo to
him.

" Why, only look at this splendid collar,
my good fellow," he cried ; " why did you
not tell me of your adventure !"

120 POP-GUNS.

" I only did my duty," Beppo modestly
answered.

" Ah ! I am quite proud of you. I
shall give you a dinner-party, and you
•shall carry round the invitations yourself."

"May I invite little golden-haired
Lucy '?" asked Beppo. " I should like to
so much."

"Certainly," said Lord Chesterfield;
" suppose you write the note yourself; it
will be a very delicate attention."

Down sat BeppQ, joyously, and soon he
had penned this tine invitation :

" Master Beppo wishes you to dine with
me to-morrow at live o' clock.

" Miss Lucy Hill."

This was not exactly the right way to
word it, hut you see his education was not
yet completed.

Then the little Ibustling old gentleman
wrote the rest of the notes ; for Beppo was
rather slow, and ran his tongue out in the

THE DOG'S DINKEK-PAETY. 121

most fearful manner, in his anxiety to spell
the words right, and then they were nicely
sealed np in envelopes, and he put them all
together in a pretty little basket.

And now the coachman was ordered to
bring out the state carriage and four horses,
and Beppo, sitting up inside on his hind-
legs, very grand, and no doubt exceedingly
uncomfortable, carried the notes of invita-
tion to the most fashionable dogs of his
acquaintance.

Three of the dogs to be invited lived in
the house, as you know; but they had
notes as well as the rest, for that is the way
to be perfectly polite. I dare say you
have many a time heard people say some-
thing like this —

"Oh, it don't make any difference what
there is for dinner when you come, because
we are so intimate ; but I should be morti-
fied to death, not to have every thing nice
when General Fusbos is invited, as he is
such a stranger."

122 POP-GUNS.

This is abominable manners — as if you
ought not to treat those you loye far better
than a stranger. It always makes me very
indignant when such a remark is made to
me; and I sincerely hope you will profit
all your life by this hint about true polite-
ness from our friend Beppo.

You can't have a great many at a dinner
party, you know ; so you must be careful
to invite the most agreeable people, and as
many ladies as gentlemen. Beppo knew
this as well as you, and so you may be
sure he had taken great pains to have a
pleasant party.

The next morning there were a great
many people ringing at the little bustling
old gentleman' s door, and each one left a
note.

Beppo ran into a corner with them, as
fast as they arrived, and read them in a
great hurry. At last one came, very
pretty, of a three-cornered shape, and
smelling of roses. The moment Beppo

opened it, and glanced at the contents, he
danced around the room for joy, waving
the note in the air with one of his fore-
paws. Then he rushed up to his master,
exclaiming —

"She's coming! my Lord Chesterfield,
she' s coming ! Just fancy how delightful
to have her sweet face and golden curls
among our hairy muzzles ! Oh, we must
be very polite, and make her as happy as
possible. "

It was a lovely summer's day. The sun
turned the ripples of the river into shifting
gold, and there was singing, and buzzing,
and whispering, and laughing everywhere ;
all felt kind and loving. Even the hide-
ous old scarecrow in the cornfield allowed
Beppo, in his joy, to dash at him and play-
fully throw him down, bang ! on his old
red nose, and he never once attempted to
get up; for he said, in his pine-wood
heart —

"I'm a brute, after all, to frighten the

124 POP -GUNS.

poor birds" out of their wits. I'll just lie
down here and take a nap, and let the dear
little things have a good time for once."

Oh, it was charming to see that even an
old scarecrow could he polite, which, after
all, is only another name for loving-kind-
ness.

Just before five o'clock, the nurse
brought little Lucy, dressed in blue, and
looking like a fairy. Strange to say, al
though only four years old, she was not in
the least frightened, but put her soft white
arms around Beppo's neck, and said, "Oh,
I love oo, good dog !" and hugged him so
kindly, that he would have given all the
world to have had her tumble into the
water again, so that he might save her life
once more.

The little bustling old gentleman took
her by the hand, and showed her all over
his curious old house, with its suits of
rusty armor, great stag horns nailed to the
walls, and queer black-looking paintings ;

THE dog's dimee-paety. 125

and Beppo followed wherever they went,
gently wagging his tail, and answering
every question with admirable politeness.

And now all the dogs who had been in-
vited had come, and were sitting in the
parlor waiting for the dinner-bell to ring,
talking and laughing as pleasantly and
properly as the king, or the president, or
yon, or I.

Of course, the first thing any one said,
after " How-de-do ?" was, "It's a fine
day!" because that's the solemn rule in
all polite society. Then, of course, they
went on to say it was worse weather last
week, and would be better weather next
week ; and after about a dozen more deep-
ly interesting remarks upon the weather,
the dinner-bell rang, and made them all
jump. But the very next instant they sat
down again, trying to look as if they were
in no sort of hurry, as it would have been
very bad manners to rush pell-mell down
stairs. Everybody knows that.

126 pop -guns.

First tlie little bustling Lord Chesterfield
stepped out, leading Lucy with the utmost
consideration and politeness. Then Beppo
made a low "bow to a very respectable old
lady-mastiff, and begged the honor of
handing her into dinner, to which she gra-
ciously consented. Then a very tall stag-
hound, with an uncommonly sharp nose,
paired off with Flora, a beautiful pointer ;
while a large, grave, middle-aged New-
foundland dog made himself agreeable to
an Italian greyhound of no particular age ;
at least she never liked to tell how old she
was, and almost always had the snuffles.
Then a pert little black-and-tan terrier
skipped up to a coquettish King Charles,
and said " would she make him the happi-
est dog in the world?" upon which she
shook her silky ears, and putting her head
on one side, and half shutting her beautiful
black eyes, lisped out " she would ;" while
a fat poodle, invited because she was so
exceedingly genteel, an(J a Skye terrier,

THE dog's DINNER-PARTY. 127

also used to the very "best society, brought
up the rear; and thus they marched two
and two, with the utmost propriety, into
the dining-room.

And now see this elegant party at the
table. The little bustling old gentleman at
the foot, and Beppo, whose back is turned
to you, at the head, with Lucy at his right
hand.

I forgot to tell you that our friend had
requested a private interview with my
Lord Chesterfield, about an hour before
dinner.

"Well, sir, what do you wish?" he
asked.

" My dear master," said Beppo, respect-
fully, " you know very well that the dogs
who will come to my dinner-party will
none of them have on coats or pantaloons,
or hooped skirts. I do not wish to mortify
them, so please let me wear my natural
suit for this once, and only my gold collar."

The little bustling old gentleman turned

128 POP -GUNS.

upon him with a look of rage, enough to
petrify a milestone.

"Is this your gratitude?" he roared,
"when I am spending all my days in
teaching you to live and dress like a gen-
tleman?"

Then, recollecting all of a sudden that
he was setting a very bad example of
politeness, he put on a remarkably sweet
expression, and added in the mildest tone —

"Excuse me ; I forgot myself. I believe
— well — yes, upon the whole, as this party
is given in your honor, you may do as you
please to-day."

"Bow, wow, wow !" barked Beppo, in a
perfect ecstasy of delight, and leaping with
all four feet in the air. " Bow, w-o-w-w !
Oh, my goodness !" he continued, sud-
denly stopping; "I forgot myself, or
rather you, sir. Please to forgive me ; I
could not keep the bark in ; and it is
utterly impossible to stop wagging my tail,
I am so happy."

THE dog's dinnek-paety. 129

" All ! how short is life !" sighed Lord
Chesterfield ; "I am afraid I shall die De-
fore my dogs, cats, and monkeys come to
perfection !"

But yon onght to have seen how ele-
gantly they arranged themselves at the
table, bowing and smiling the whole
blessed time. It was something worth
looking at, I can tell yon — all sitting np as
fine as yon please, five on each side. The
waiters, who were rigged ont in regimen-
tals, tied white napkins aronnd their
necks, at which, I mnst confess, there was
some snarling and a bark or so, and one or
two tried to wriggle ont of them ; bnt at a
grave, severe look from my Lord Chester-
field, they gave np with a low whine,
which was mnch better than conld have
been expected.

Beppo had a fine piece of beef to carve,
and his master a pair of roasted chickens ;
bnt all the rest of the dishes were pies of
different kinds of birds — pigeon-pie, snipe
9

130 POP- GUNS.

pie, woodcock-pie, poll-parrot-pie, owl-pie,
cat-bird-pie, and booby-pie, for a booby is
a bird as well as a dunce.

Oh, my goodness ! how they did want
to dive into these delicious pies with their
paws. If they had dared, they would have
behaved exactly as most people do on
board of steamboats, where they pounce
on all the dishes they can reach at once,
and empty them pell-mell on their plates.
I have seen oysters, pie, roast beef, salt
fish, and ice cream, all mixed up on the
same plate — a perfectly horrible mess ; and
that was because these greedy^people had
not the first idea of politeness or courtesy
one to another, and the want of it made
them behave like pigs.

" Shall I help you to a slice of the
chicken, madam?" said Lord Chesterfield
to Lucy.

" If you please," said Lucy, with a
pretty little bow and smile.

" What part do you prefer, madam V

"I like the merry sort, if you please,"
answered the dear little thing — meaning
the merry thought.

Now this was perfect good manners.
Some people would have said, " Any part
—I'm not at all particular," and would
have "been very impolite, for then the
carver would not be sure he should suit
them ; so, when you are asked, always
choose a part.

" Will you have chicken ?" asked Lord
Chesterfield of the respectable old lady-
mastiff.

" Oh, oh ! give it to me ! /want some,"
squeaked out the little black-and-tan ter-
rier, quick as a flash, before the old mastiff
could utter a syllable.

What an awful look he got from the
bustling little old gentleman ! and the mas-
tiff faced round upon him with, " Sir,
you're a disrespectful puppy," and glared
in a way to frighten him into fits ; while
the stag-hound opposite stuck his sharp

132 pop- guns.

nose up in the air, and remarked in a
whisper to Flora, the beautiful pointer,
that "really, young America was getting
too impudent for any thing."

Beppo looked imploringly at his master
to forgive little Snap this time, as he was
young and silly, and hastened to put a de-
licious cat-bird, with crust and gravy, on
his plate ; and after this the dinner went on
splendidly, except that the greyhound of
no particular age kept her tongue waggling
out of her mouth very nearly the whole
time, on account of the snuffles, which pre-
vented her from breathing freely. It was
not very elegant conduct, but as she
couldn't help it, nobody looked at her ;
and that, you'll own, was the politest
way of behaving under the circumstances.
The fat poodle and the Skye terrier talked
a little in French about it, to be sure,
but as nobody else understood what they
said, and as they smiled all the time, the
rest took it for granted that they were

THE dog's dinner-party. 133

admiring their neighbors, and felt highly
gratified.

Everybody ate and drank with all the
decorum and delicacy of our city aldermen,
who ought to be held up as examples of
courtesy, honesty, and moderation, to the
whole universe. They did not leave so
much as a bone on their plates ; but I am
sorry to say they were in rather too much
of a hurry at dessert, for most of them
burned their mouths severely with the hot
cracker pudding, and Snap, the black-and-
tan terrier, declared that it must have been
made of fire-crackers.

But, take it all in all, it was a splendid
entertainment ; and, after it was over, the
ladies went back to the parlors, and talked
about the last fashions. " Ears were to be
cut off closer than ever, for terriers," said
the King Charles; and "red, white and
blue collars were considered rather old-
timed," was observed by the beautiful
pointer; "that is, unless the army did

134 P 0 P - G U N s .

something decided at once, then they would
be the rage again immediately." The
gentlemen of course talked of nothing but
money, money, money, as men, the dogs ! ?
always do, when they get together, and if
Lord Chesterfield had not made the signal
to move, they would have stayed there
talking about money to this day.

Lucy had taken the pretty little King
Charles spaniel in her lap, and they had a
most delightful chat together, which ended
in their vowing everlasting friendship to
each other, and promising to exchange
visits every day, for, as the King Charles
was one of Lord Chesterfield' s family, this
could be very easily done.

When the gentlemen came up stairs,
they had coffee, and then, as it was getting
dark, the little bustling old gentleman or-
dered the gas to be lighted, and proposed
some music. First, Lucy played "Old
Dog Tray," with one little white finger on
the piano, and then she lisped out, in her
sweet way, " I know a pretty 'tory."

the dog's dinner-paety. 135

"Ah! tell it!" cried all tlie company,
gathering gently round her, for there was
no pushing, or squealing — "Here, let me
come in ! don't crowd so !" No, indeed !
for that would have "been any thing but
polite. They all fastened their eyes on the
lovely little girl, who stood resting her
arm on Beppo's neck, so proud and happy
to have it there, and in her sweet voice,
like a robin' s song, she began :

" A — doo was faller fas,*

A— -'tar bedan a — bink,
I heard a voice, a — said,

"Dint, pitty teeter, dint!"
A — looker in a — hed,

A — 'fore me I a — pied
A snow 'ite mount a — lamb,

'Ith a maiden at a — aide.
" No ozzer seep — a — near ;

A — lamb was a — 11 aloney,
And by a 'ittle cord

Was fasser to a toney,
Ith— ith—

* The dew waa falling fast, the stars began to blink,
I heard a voice — it said 'Drink, pretty creature, drink }'
&c." — Wordsworth's poem of the " Pet Lamb.1 '

136 pop- guns.

" Oil ! I tant say any more," said Lucy.
" What a pity !" and she bent down her
loyely golden head, and blushed.

" Oh yes, what a pity !" echoed all the
company. i ' It was so sweet ; but we thank
you very much for this ; it was beautiful !"

" Will oo sing for me ?" asked Lucy.

" Certainly," they all cried with the ut-
most readiness ; " our voices are not very
good, and will sound horridly after your
sweet tones, but you may be sure we shall
do our best."

They selected a hunting song with a
chorus, and sure enough, with the excep-
tion of the stag-hound, whose voice was
melody itself, you might have supposed it
a compound of distressed rats, an old pump-
handle, ungreased cart-wheels, a poker on
a tin pan, and the spiritual rappers quar-
relling together ; for it was all squeal, howl,
whine, grunt, and groan, of the most dis-
mal description ; but as they really tried
with all their might and main to sing a

the dog's dinnee-paety. 137

good song, every "body looked pleased, "be-
cause they took the will for the deed, and
made the Tbest of it. Do you observe that,
my young friends ? ■ Well, never curl your
lips with contempt, or make fun of any
honest, kind-hearted effort to entertain you.
Try to he pleased and thankful : take the
will for the deed, and, my word for it, you
will find a delicious glow come into your
heart, and a lovely expression in your
eyes ; all your ugly thoughts will fly away
to the bottomless pit, and you will find
yourself really loving the one you meant
to ridicule.

Presently there came one of those long,
solemn pauses which will take place, do
your best, when you have company, and
Lord Chesterfield hastened to propose a
game. As they were nearly all young and
frisky, with the truest politeness, he pro-
posed a frolicsome play, though he would
much rather have had a sober talk on poli-
tics himself. Mind this, if you have a little

138 POP -GUNS.

party, don't insist on doing what you like
best, and taking all the prettiest and best
things, hut study the wishes of your
guests, and do what pleases them most.

So Lord Chesterfield proposed the game
of the " Family Coach," to assist their di-
gestion, which was hailed with hounds of
delight by all except the old lady-mastiff,
and the middle-aged Newfoundland dog,
who preferred to take a quiet chat to-
gether, which ended in a nap on the sofa ;
but as they smiled and nodded to each
other all the same, the rest concluded they
were only shutting their eyes, as very sen-
timental people do when they talk, and so
no offence was taken at their sleeping be-
fore company, and the poor old things had
a very refreshing time of it.

The little bustling old gentleman ap-
pointed himself master of ceremonies, and
there not being dogs enough for a grand
frolic, introduced a few of the cats and
monkeys; who were so enchanted at the

THE dog's dinnee-party. 139

chance to come in, that they frisked, and
danced, and made a very narrow escape of
screaming for joy and becoming perfectly
riotous with the fun of the thing ; and that,
you know, would not have been polite.

I have a great mind to write down the
way Lord Chesterfield made them play this
game. I think you will like to know. So
here it is.

Usually, you must invent a story about
the " Family Coach," as you play; but
unless you are very . bright and quick
about it, there is not much fun. The next
time you have a little party, play this
game as it is set down here. I have never
seen any written before, and I think, if
you use this story, you will have a real
funny time.

In the first place, Lord Chesterfield gave
them all a part or name, which they must
by no means forget, and the point is, that
when your name is called, you must get
up instantly, twirl around quickly, and sit

140

POP-GUNS.

down again; and when " Family Coach"
is mentioned, everybody in the play must
get up instantly, twirl around quickly, and
sit down again.

There were little Lucy and twenty-eight
dogs, cats, and monkeys to play, and they
each took one of these parts :

1. Off-leader

2. Near-leader

3. Off-wheeler

4. Near- wheeler

5. Reins.

6. Traces.

7. Pole.

8. Whip.

9. Box.

10. Fore-axles.

11. Hind-axles.

12. Fore-wheels.

13. Hind-wheels.

14. Dog's taH.

15. Lamps.

16. Foot-board.

17. Steps.

18. Windows.

19. Doors.

20. Linch-pin.

21. Huhs.

22. Spokes.

23. Springs.

24. Coachman.

25. Footman.

26. Old lady.

27. Fat poodle.

28. Coach-dog.

29. Blinders.

THE DOG'S DINNEE-PAETY. 141

Then the good old gentleman began,
speaking rather quickly —

"Once upon a time, in a certain tumble-
down old house in the country, there ex-
isted a family heir-loom, in the shape of a
Family Coach."

All the dogs, cats, and monkeys bounced
up with such a whirl, that they looked like
whipping-tops, with their own quickly
whisking tails for whips, and dear little
Lucy, in her haste and delight, tumbled
over sideways, and fell softly on the car-
pet. She did not hurt herself the least bit,
but jumped up laughing, to Beppo's great
joy, and the play went on.

"To be sure, the Family Coach was
rather worn out : the wheels were none of
the best ; the axles were nearly rotten ;
the lincTi-pins were rusty; the box tot-
tering, and the whole Family Coach de-
caying.

"But then the old lady who owned it
thought it worth all the new ones from

142 pop -guns.

here to Kamtschatka. The fat poodle and
the coach-dog couldn't live without it.
The fat poodle barked, and the coach-dog
wagged his tail for joy whenever it ap-
peared. Indeed nobody knew whether
the old lady, the fat poodle, the coach-dog,
the coach-dog's tail, the coachman, or the
footman, was most delighted at the event,
when one day the old lady ordered out the
Family Coach.

" Immediately the footman told the
coachman, the coachman told the coach-
dog, the fat poodle heard of it and barked,
and the Family Coach groaned in every
part under the rubbing and the scrubbing
that was bestowed upon the pole, the reins,
the traces, the box, the fore-axles, the hind-
axles, the fore-wheels, the hind-wheels, the
lamps, the foot-board, the steps, the win-
dows, the doors, the linch-pins, the hubs,
the spolces, and the springs.

" At last, the off-leader and near-leader
the off-wheeler and near-wheeler, were har-

THE dog's dinnee-paety. 143

nessed to the pole and traces ; the blinders
and reins were in apple-pie order; the
lamps were lit, and the coachman mounted
the box; the footman, the foot board ; the
old lady got inside, and the fat poodle was
following, when, lo and behold ! the coach-
dog got jealous, seized the fat poodle by
the leg, and made him bawl, ' Ki-i ! ki-i 1'

" Then the coachman flourished his
whip, the footman fell off the foot-board
laughing, and the old lady nearly fainted.
But a crack of the whip on the coach-
dog's tail made him let go, and the poor
fat poodle got inside with a piece out of
his leg ; the leaders and wheelers pranced
and danced, the axles groaned, and the
Family Coach started.

" For some time all went on beautifully ;
the wheels rolled smoothly around; the
leaders and wheelers trotted comfortably
along ; the coachman only cracked his
whip for show ; the footman amused him-
self by going to sleep ; the old lady nod-

144 pop-guns.

ded inside ; and the fat poodle stared out
of the windows and doors, and grinned and
made faces at the coach-dog, who had to
run underneath.

" Presently the roads became rough, and
the springs began to pitch the Family
Coach about. The axles groaned, the
linch-pins became shaky, the hubs were
in a pucker, the spokes gave a warning
crack, and the footman woke up with a
prodigious jerk, that nearly took his head
off. The coachman now gathered up the
reins and cracked the whip in earnest;
the old lady squeaked, and told the coach-
man to he careful ; the coachman got
saucy, and said he knew his own "business
"best ; the fat poodle began to turn pale,
and the coach-dog took precious good care
to keep himself and his tail out of danger.

"But oh ! ah ! alas ! the very next min-
ute the Family Coach went pounce into
a great mud-hole. The coachman jumped
off the box, the footman tumbled off the

THE dog's dinnee-paety. 145

foot-board, and Iboth tried to lift the fore-
wheels and hind^wheels, Ibnt they found
they couldn't do it.' Then they got back
to their places ; the coachman cracked His
whip tremendously ; the off -leader and
near-leader, off-wheeler and near-wheeler,
bounced and jumped, and pranced and
danced, till their blinders were twisted
into their eyes ; the pole rattled ; the
reins and traces creaked ; both the axles
groaned; but the wheels wouldn't turn.

"At last, slap, bang! with one tremen-
dous crash ! the linch-pins came out, and
the wheels rolled off ; the two leaders and
two wheelers ran away with their blinders ;
the lamps were smashed; the doors and
windows broken ; the fat poodle fell on
the old lady ; the old lady tumbled down
on the floor, which broke through, and all
came pounce on the poor coach-dog, who
lost his tail by its being squeezed off ; and
coachman, footman, old lady, fat poodle,
and coach-dog lay all jumbled up amid
10

146 POP-GUNS.

the ruins of wheels, axles, reins, traces,
whip, pole, lamps, foot-board, steps, win-
dows, doors, linch-pins, hubs, spokes, and
springs which once composed that splen-
did old fossil, the Family Coach. "

There were lots of forfeits to redeem,
notwithstanding the natural quickness of
little Lucy and the dogs, cats, and mon-
keys to whirl and spring about. Of course
you know that if you forget to turn around
when your name is called, you must pay a
forfeit. The redeeming of these made an
immense deal of laughing and chattering.
The dogs acted funny, the cats funnier,
and the monkeys funniest of all ; while
little Lucy's eyes sparkled like diamonds,
and she danced and sang the whole time ;
so, upon the whole, it was quite as delight-
ful a party as one made altogether of good
little Tboys and girls; for the best of all
was, that not a single cross bark, snarl,
mew, chatter, or squeal was heard ; and I
for one would much rather be invited to a

the dog's dinner-party. 147

party of perfectly polite and good-natured
dogs, cats, and monkeys, than to one of
children who wanted to slap and scratch.
Wouldn't you?

" Oh you funny, funny Aunt Fanny !"
cried the children, laughing heartily, "to
make dogs and cats teach us politeness ;
who ever heard of such a thing before f

" That's what /call pretty sharp shoot-
ing," said Fred.

" And the shot must have gone through
and through you," observed Kitty, quietly.
"You remember how you pulled my chair
from under me just as I was going to sit
upon it yesterday, and made me come
down bang on the floor."

"Yes, and you shook the room so, I
thought it would crack the looking-glass ;
and then you looked round so astonished
and silly, I almost died laughing."

"Oh, Fred !" exclaimed Aunt Fanny ;

148 POP-GUNS.

"is it possible you were so rude? If I
were an absolute monarch, I would con-
demn you to be upset once a day for a
week in exactly the same manner. I am a
great believer in the kind of punishment
the boys call ' tit for tat.' If a boy should
cut the string of your kite, I should cut
the strings of all his kites for a whole sea-
son, explaining every time — ' That's for
punishment, my fine friend. I don't think
you'll cut another boy's kite- string in a
hurry.' "

Fred turned very red ; but, standing up,
he said pleasantly, " Here, Kitty, come
and upset me."

She ran behind his chair, but he did not
think she would play this trick before
company, and he turned quickly, with
such perfect confidence, as she snatched
the chair away, that he came down with a
most tremendous thump ! which made the
very windows rattle, amid the shouts and
laughter of the rest.

THE dog's dinnee-paety. 149

"How do you like it?" asked Aunt
Fanny, quietly.

"Not much," said Fred, grinning in
rather a rueful manner. I'm cured, though.
I don't think I shall upset anybody again ;
and just let them try it on me — that's all."

At this they all laughed harder than
ever, and declared that Aunt Fanny's rule
for punishment was the very "best they had
ever heard of.

" But do you not see, my darlings," she
said, seriously, "that it only proves the
glorious wisdom of Our Saviour's golden
rule ? Whenever you are tempted to play
a trick, or say a sharp thing, just stop one
moment, and ask yourself, ' Would I like to
have this done or said to me V If you ask
yourself this question honestly, the little
monitor which God has placed in all your
hearts, will answer you so faithfully and
kindly, that you would be very naughty
children not to listen to its whisperings.

" And now let me tell you the true de-

150 POP- GUNS.

finition of politeness. It is ' real kindness
Mndly expressed.'' Don't forget this. Put
this definition in your pop-guns, and fire
it off as often as you can, and, my word for
it, everybody you shoot will come to love
you dearly. For my part, I should like to
dine off such shots, red-hot, every day of
my life. And so good night, little Pop-gun
youngsters, and pleasant dreams to you
all."

"Ah, dear Aunt Fanny! please stay a
little minute longer," cried all the chil-
dren, running to kiss her. "It's so very
early."

"Well, I believe I will stay just long
enough to ask your advice about some-
thing."

"Oh dear, yes! Ask away. We love
to give advice." And the six children
immediately tried to look as wise as twelve
large owls, or as Governor Wise of Vir-
ginia, who, they said, kept it all in his
name, and nowhere else ; while Aunt

THE DOG'S DINNER-PARTY. 151

Fanny, with, a very grave face, proceeded
to observe —

"This story finishes the first volume of
'Pop-G-uns.' Do you think it will do to
go with 'Mghtcaps' and the rest? or do
you advise me to burn it up ?"

"Burn it up!" screamed the children,
running again to her and kissing her.
"No, no, no; pray, don't. Have them
printed, and we will read them twenty
times, and play the ' Family Coach ' too !
Let's play Family Coach now."

And so they did ; though, as there were
only ten of them, Sophie had to be aH the
four horses, Kitty the coachman, footman,
and old lady; while mamma, papa, Aunt
Fanny, and the rest, were all sorts of
things at once. But they had great fun,
and were perfectly wornout with laugh-
ing, particularly when little Bob had to
twirl round, which he always did in such
a desperate hurry, that he tumbled over
his own legs, and upset himself every time.

152 pop-guns.

And, after that, the forfeits were en-
chanting ;' for Annt Fanny knew a great
many fanny ones ; and Fred said he did
"wish Annt Fanny was a 'real trne child,'
so they conld have her to play with them
the whole time;" which speech, she de-
clared, was the very finest compliment
she had ever received ; and Uncle Fanny
(that' s Annt Fanny' s huslband) said —

"Well, Peter, I always said yon were
ahont six months yonnger than either of
yonr children, and now I am snrer of it
than ever."

"What makes Uncle Fanny call her
' Peter V " whispered Kitty to Lon. "He
always does it. He did it in one of the
' Mitten' "books."

"Becanse he thinks it teases me," said
Annt Fanny, whose ears are very sharp,
and heard the whisper.

"Why, Peteretta ! does it tease yon?"
said Uncle Fanny.

"There! he is at it, worse than ever:

THE dog's dinner-party. 153

let's all go and shake him," cried Aunt
Fanny.

The six children rushed at him pell-mell
— and he got a splendid shaking — little
Boh squeezing one knee and tickling him
almost to death ; Peter the other, while the
rest of the children shook him just where
they could get at him.

"Ah! he's sorry," cried Kitty, in a
sweet, coaxing voice; "hear how he
sighs !"

Sure enough, Uncle Fanny was sighing,
Ibecause he could not laugh any more, he
had got so weak ; but he caught at dear
little Kitty' s comforting word, and gasped
out, " Oh yes, I'm sorry, dreadful sorry —
I'll never call Peter Aunt Fanny again — I
mean, Aunt Peter, Fannyretta — I mean —
oh, Peter ! ! I will be good !"

Aunt Fanny had given his ear a good
pinch, and the children laughed harder
than ever, to see him holding up his hands,
and pretending to be afraid of a little

154 POP-GUNS.

woman about half his size, and they were
just going to shake him again, when he ran
for his life, and, getting out on the front
stoop, declared he would not come into the
house again.

So they had to let Aunt Fanny go to him,
after she had promised not to "be long "be-
fore she fired off another pop-gun at them.

And they promised her to be always
kind and good to their little companions,
and make the very best use of their time
— as Philip Wiseman did at last — and to
" practise true politeness" everywhere,
and towards everybody, like Beppo and
his friends.

» * * # * ¥r ¥: *

After Aunt Fanny went away, the chil-
dren were so anxious to impress upon her
mind the serious importance of having the
first volume of Pop-guns printed imme-
diately, that they called a mass meeting in
the corner, before they bid their parents
good-night.

ABOUT THE CHILDREN. 155

"I say," said Fred, " let's write one of
those tilings papa reads out of the paper,
when any great man dies, beginning with,
' Whereas,' and going on with a whole lot
of 'resolves' fall of compliments."

" But I don't want Aunt Fanny to die,"
cried little Bob, beginning to rub his eyes.

"Oh no! She isn't going to die. But
we don't want her to burn up our Pop-
guns," explained Lou, kindly.

" Oh !" said Bob, and looked quite com-
forted.

So Fred got a sheet of paper, and filling
a pen very full of ink, for fear it might dry
up before he got it to the paper, he began
to write ; and by dint of breathing very
hard, and bouncing up and down in his
chair after finishing every sentence, he soon
completed this elegant set of resolutions : —

" Whereas, As we are afraid Aunt Fanny may burn up
Pop-guns, which, would be awful ; and

" Whereas, Ever so many children would be so sorry,
they would not know what to do ; therefore,

11 Resolved, That the stories are perfectly delightful, and

156 POP- GUNS.

would do the children more good than forty whippings, or a
hundred doses of medicine ; and

" Besolved, That after being told in the famous story of
the "Dinner Party," that the

Dogs and cats were so polite,
They quite forgot to hark and bite,
it would never do to let all the rest of the children in the
world lose a chance of growing as polite^ as we mean to
be after this, or as amiable and unselfish as Philip Badboy
became ; and so, dear Aunt Panny, you will please to send
your stories to Mr. Sheldon immediately, and ask him to get
them printed in the very greatest hurry — real head-over-
heels hurry, too."

" There !" cried Fred, reading the mani-
festo over with admiration, but with a
vague idea that they did not sound quite
right, particularly the last one. " There !
Now we must sign our names — ladies
first."

So Sophie and the rest signed ; and Aunt
Fanny got the resolutions before breakfast
the next morning, and had a good laugh
over them.

But she sent the stories to Mr. Sheldon,
and here they are for her darlings out in
the world.

ABOUT THE CHILDEEN. 157

The children to whom they were read
have promised to make her happy by try-
ing to profit "by the good examples given,
and avoid what is unlovely and sinful.
Will you try too % Ah ! tell Aunt Fanny
that you will, — and that our Father in
Heaven may help you, shall "be her daily
prayer.

Books Published by Sheldon & Company.

ROLLO'S TOUR IN EUROPE.

BY JACOB ABBOTT,

Author of the "Hollo Books," "Florence Stories," "American
Histories," &c, &c.

OEDEPw OF THE VOLUMES.

EOLLO ON THE ATLANTIC.
EOLLO IN PARIS.
EOLLO IN SWITZERLAND.
EOLLO IN LONDON.
EOLLO ON THE RHINE.
ROLLO IN SCOTLAND.
EOLLO IN GENEVA.
EOLLO IN HOLLAND.
EOLLO IN NAPLES.
EOLLO IN ROME.
Each, volume fully illustrated,
Price per vol., 90 cents.

Mr. Abbott is the most successful writer of books for the
young in this, or perhaps, any other country. " Rollo's Tour
in Europe," is by for the greatest success of any of Mr.
Abbott's works.

From (he New York Observer.

"Mr. Abbott is known to be a pure, successful and useful
writer for the young and old. He is also the most popular
Author of juvenile books now living."

Books Published by Sheldon & Company

NEW JUVENILE BOOKS,

To be ready early in the coming Fall

A HEW SERIES BY AUNT FANNY,

Author of "Nightcap," "Mitten," and "Pet Books."

THE POP-GUN STORIES.

In 6 vols. IGmo., beautifully illustrated.

I.— POP-GUNS.
IL— ONE BIG- POP-GUN.
III.— ALL SORTS OF POP-GUNS.
IV.— FUNNY POP-GUNS.
V.— GRASSHOPPER POP-GUNS.
VI.— POST-OFFICE POP-GUNS.
Aunt Fanny is one of the most successful writers for children
in this country, as is attested by the very wide sale her pre-
vious books have had, and we feel sure that the mere announce-
ment of this new series will attract the attention of her host of
admirers.

A NEW SERIES BY T. S. ARTHUR,

Author of " Household Library," and " Arthur's Juvenile
Library."

HOME STORIES.

3 vols., IQmo., fully illustrated.
LIST OF VOLUMES.

HIDDEN WINGS.
SOWING THE WIND.
SUNSHINE AT HOME.
The name of this Author is a sufficient Guarantee of the ex-
cellence of the Series.

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